The Fangs of the Dragon
by RaeAdnan
Summary: Devastation. Deception. Death. Words Reiko Katsumi knows well. She desires revenge against Oda Nobunaga, but lacking the skills necessary to do it for herself, she finds herself in need of a certain One-Eyed Dragon and his skill with his six swords. But sometimes, with trust comes love and with love comes a whole heap of trouble...
1. Intro

_There I stand in the battlefield before Azuchi castle, men falling around me, left and right. Above me, the man I love fights the Devil King alongside a young warrior clad in crimson. I hack my way through the Devil's warriors, making my way toward the source of evil emanating from the devastated roof. You may ask what events could have happened to lead a young woman such as myself to fight her way through a battlefield in sixteenth century Japan. To find that answer, I have to tell you my beginning._

_My childhood, all my memories from before I was around eight years old, are gone. As a girl, I was found in the forest in dirty, bloody rags, my eyes and mind clouded and traumatized, amnesia robbing my of the reason for my state-of-being. Truly, the only thing I remember before the forest is a dark space like a tunnel, two people ahead of me with two bright lights moving towards us rapidly. Other than that, my life begins on my eighth "birthday" in Nagashino forest._

_My new family consisted of my grandparents, who owned and ran a medicine shop, and my mother and father who sold kimonos and other clothing and supplies, all together in a large, road-side travelers' shop. Mother and father couldn't have children of their own so they considered me a beautiful gift from the gods, my hair the darkest ebony and my eyes the most startling blue they'd ever seen, and also the most beautiful. They named me Katsumi._

_I learned herbalism from grandma and people skills from grandpa; I learned to throw a decent punch from father and morals from mother. We were happy and peaceful outside the city... until Oda Nobunaga came into power._

_Quite suddenly, at the tender age of twelve, I was alone. My family was taken from me viciously, and with equal ferocity, I murdered the man responsible and stole his twin knives as my own before I ran away into the forest. I taught myself to fight and survive, putting my wiles to good use, manipulating, hiding, stealing, surviving by the skin of my teeth, working up a reputatin as a rogue by the time I turned sixteen, though for some time I was able to get by as a healer, seeing as they were more openly recieved and often got what they wanted in exchange for medicine and treatment. But as Oda's control expanded, my chances of living shrank._

_At nineteen, I happened across an Oda encampment during my wanderings of the northern borderlands, being pulled by some gut feeling I didn't understand. I've always been plagued by visions, ever since I was small, of people I didn't know, war lords, banners, battles, but above all, blood. I'd been suffering from one such vision of a boy in crimson when I came into the outskirts of a battlecamp only a few days' march from Oshu's border._

_It wasn't impressively huge, but my guess after seeing the light armor, calvary and weapons, I assumed it was a blitzkrieg-geurilla-style strike force designed to probe, wound and retreat in quick, succesive groups to paranoi the enemy troops and dwindle their supplies with minimum casualites to their own men. That night I did a little recon and made my way into the largest of the tents, hiding amongst the water barrels lining the rear canvas, allowing me to eavesdrop on their plans, memorizing the route they planned to take as well as their attack plan against a man named Date Masamune of Oshu._

_Pulling a small piece of parchment and charcoal from my supply bag at my hip, I scribbled the details in shorthand and tucked the information into my breastband before tying a black cloth around my face and hastily but quietly made my way out of the camp and onto the road that would carry me to Oshu._


	2. Chapter 1

_Ninja I am not, but I can run for many hours steadily so I made it in two days rather than four, leaving me two days to talk the lord of this province into doing something before the Oda faction encircle and march on the city. The so-called "One-Eyed Dragon" would not trust me without proof, but if that proof wanted to, it could raze his city to the ground unless he made the preemptive strike. I didn't want to see Oda win against anyone, so of course I would not be easily turned away and would explain myself at all costs._

_Unfortunately, I got stopped by two boobs at the gate. Two oddly familiar-looking boobs._

One guard possessed spiky, pale brown hair and glasses perched at the edge of his nose while his companion was grossly overweight for a soldier. Approaching cautiously, Katsumi remained wary of the pikes both men weilded and how they noticed her immediately, although it wasn't surprising as she wore all black which only served its purpose at night, bringing the weapons to attention.

"Woman!" the bespectacled one called, drawing her to a stop. "What d'ya want? This isn't some tea shop you can wander in to whenever ya feel like!"

"I know," she stated calmly, looking him dead in the eye. "I request a presence with lord Date. I carry important information for his eyes only."

"Yeah? What kind o' information?" the fat one demanded, scratching his belly and scowling at her.

"I am not at liberty to discuss," she retorted smoothly which only served to aggrivate them.

Glasses snarled, "Why you-!" when another voice carried from behind over the sound of approaching hooves.

"What's going on here?"

Startled, Katsumi turned and saw a tall man on a stallion wearing a tan coat, his dark hair slicked back, showing off the scars on his face; he too was familiar to her, if only vaguely.

"Magobei, Samanosuke," he started, giving her a quick glance and narrowing his eyes, hand twitching from the reigns to his katana. "I asked what was going on here."

The guards greeted him with a simultaneous, "Master Katakura!" which put the name in place for her. She kneeled, bowing her head like a shinobi giving a report to her master, speaking quickly. "Master Katakura Kojuro, I am Reiko Katsumi, rogue of the Owari countryside. I have sensitive information for lord Date and yourself."

"Information on what, exactly?" he asked suspiciously, not tearing his gaze from the woman before him, naturally mistrustful, reigning his horse in as it teetered away, wanting to get home to its warm stall.

Katsumi glanced up at him, seeing him freeze for a moment as he met her eyes. "A small force of Oda soldiers is closing in on Yonezawa as we speak."

Getting inside stopped being a part of her plan the minute Kojuro had pulled up as she wanted him to take the transcribed scroll in himself, but he insisted on her accompanying him under the premise of gleaning extra details she may not have included, but mostly to keep her in his sights, as he doubted her entire story completely and allowing her to get away after planting false information would be a grevious flop on his part and that would never happen on his watch, hence why he asked her to accompany him inside where the soldiers and walls would keep her from making a quick escape. She explained how she felt that if action were taken suddenly and the information leaked, the attack would be called off; it sounded too convenient to him. But, he was a cautious man and took her word on a hunch, not wanting to trust her but feeling in his gut she was telling the truth.

Once inside, she pulled the black mask covering her face down and caught him by surprise yet again, as well as every man they passed, none of them used to woman coming into the manor as it were, but especially not women as lovely as she was. Katsumi looked around sparingly, disappointed at the lack of decor, though she had been raised around color so the drab, masculine sense of style was lost on her. Most everything was green, gray or blue and had the faint odor of man-stink embued in it, which didn't surprise her any, but it didn't make it any more pleasant. She couldn't make her observing obvious, hesitant to trip Kojuro's trigger and provoke him to off her in a heartbeat.

Ahead was the main building where she assumed the mysterious Date Masamune lived and held his war councils, the big door painted with a crescent moon and a dragon, hinting that it lead to lord Date's personal living quarters. They didn't enter through that door, but instead through a smaller door off to the right that lead to a small hallway that cut through the manor to the rear garden, Kojuro's voice low as he gave an explicit warning, "If you make any move I don't like, I will rend your head from your shoulders in a heartbeat."

She smiled pleasantly at his back and answered, "What kind of assassin would I be to show my motives in broad daylight?"

"A stupid one," he retorted immediately.

She frowned.

The end door was already open, spilling light into the hallway from around the corner, revealing a stone garden that mande her spirit swirl as if her chi were swirling like the pebbly curves and waves, pulling her attantion from where she was at that moment. Suddenly they were there, standing on the rear patio with the sunlight reflecting brightly off the white stones, making Katsumi squint as she stepped out from the doorway. Kojuro moved beside her, startling her into taking a half-step back, heart skipping a beat fearfully; he glared warningly, fingers touching his katana hilt once more before turning to the right where she just realized a young man was sitting.

"Lord Masamune," he said, kneeling down.

She went to her knees and bowed.

"Forgive this breach of protocol, but I bear troubling news."

"Eh?" a deep-though not as deep as Kojuro-voice uttered, drawing Katsumi's attention up from her prone position.

This was her first sight of the boy lord, Date Masamune, clad in a white robe with navy hakama and resting between two of the supports, gazing out into the garden thoughtfully; curious about the interruption, he turned and found his Right Eye, Kojuro, accompanyed by a young woman he didn't recignize. "Who's this?"

She was beautiful, more beautiful than any woman he had known or seen before, with amazingly porcelain skin that seem to glow in the sunlight, and rosy, soft-looking lips that reminded him of sakura blossoms; ebony locks hung down her back, tightly braided save for her bangs and two long curls that lay in front of her ears, swaying gently with her movements, her eyes so blue they mirrored his own, so cat-like and wary, noting every detail and movement around her. She moved with a kind of fluid tension, lifting from her bow to sit on her legs, hands folded into her lap, her manner not unlike a hunting cat's, which betrayed her unease.

His heart ached to look at her, and he was thankful for Kojuro's interruption as he came forward, holding out a small scroll. Masamune took it and opened it slowly, eye wandering as the girl remained respectfully knelt, bowing her head as she introduced herself. "Lord Date," she said in a voice like a flowing brook, smooth and clear and sweet in his ears like a drink of cool water on a hot summer's day, "I am Reiko Katsumi of Owari. I recently happened across plans to encircle this town and cripple your forces so I came to warn you. There is less than forty-eight hours before they will arrive."

Katsumi had not been disappointed with the young lord, in the way only a young woman could be when faced with a young, ruggedly handsome man. His messy, dark hair hung about his neck in random layers, his bangs parted to conceal the black hexagonal eyepatch that cover his right eye, which she assumed is what gave rise to the "One-Eye" in his title, though he seemed rather docile for a dragon. He had a strong frame and broad shoulders, though most of his body was wrapped in the loose robe and _hakama_ and thus unavailable for review, his posture telling her he was a man of quick action, his body relaxed as if waiting for a reason to spring quickly, his movements deceptively lazy even though his one good eye watched everything around him with sharp intelligence, its blue as brilliant and fierce as her own.

They realized they were studying each other and neither felt abashed and refused to looked away of their own accord, but Masamune relented to skim her report, impressed with her small, neat caligraphy and clear information. "If you're from Owari," he began, looking back up at her and seeing her start as their gazes locked yet again which made him grin a tiny bit, if only for a moment, "then why are you _against_ Oda?"

Her hands clenched tightly-a move that didn't go unnoticed-and she bowed her head so they wouldn't see the ugly snarl twisting her face. "I have my reasons," she told them tightly, shaking almost imperceptibly. "I hate Oda. I will aid anyone willing to stand against him. I want to see him pay for his crimes."

"Vaguely morbid one, aren't ya?" the lord mused plainly, meeting his second's gaze meaningfully while rolling the scroll up and placing it within his jacket.

Kojuro bowed, pressing his weight onto his knuckles and saying, "I will call a war council immediately," and rose a second after Masamune did.

"_Alright. Let's get it done._"

Katsumi grinned and finally lifted her head, amused at his use of English, only to see them both looking down at her which made her cheeks flush.

"Up," Masamune told her and she did not hesitate to rise, her eyes bearing a question she was afraid to ask. "You're joining us."

"W..." she uttered, glancing to Kojuro for a second. "Why?"

Squeezing his eyes shut, as he still was not comfortable with the situation or her, the tall man explained, "Details. We have reason to believe you based on your behavior, so we want you to give us every detail you can remember that was't already included. Numbers, location, artillery-everything."


	3. Chapter 2

_I was walking through the forest, trying to find a town to stop in. I'm a traveler, in the barest sense, so I have no home to return to. I got myself lost though due to a fit of... well, I'm certain now it was a case of food poisoning, and lost my sense of direction. That's when I felt a large presence nearby. I stepped off the path and moved toward it through the treetops and before I knew it, I happened across a scattered camp of several hundred flying the Oda banner. Naturally I was uneasy, as this territory was far from being under his control, so I snuck in to figure out what was going on. Maybe give them grief. I'm not stupid and I'm not the greatest fighter in the world, so I didn't try to take out their leaders or wind them up, but I did loose their horses and stampeded them through the camp to buy some time. After gleaning some information of course._

_I even found the tent concealing the arquebus weapons Oda prides himself on, but it was heavily guarded and I only caught glimpses as the guards changed and checked the stock. It was after this that I went to the main tent to eavesdrop and heard them finalizing their plans, concealing myself in the rear among some barrels of water, listening through the canvas. Everything I heard is listed here in this scroll. When they called it quits, I left, hoping they wouldn't change anything at the last minute. That's why I'm here now._

"Why though?" Katakura Kojuro inquired, kneeling across from the black-clad woman, separated only by the map of the Oshu region and the nearby bordering lands, ready to be marked with the known locations and directions of the supposed Oda force that was closing in.

Reiko Katsumi studied the map carefully, trying to make sense of it, as she was by no means a strategist. To her right, before the map, was Date Masamune, and on her left the collection of Date soldiers who all stared unabashed at the mysterious, beautiful woman before them, baffled to hell. Semi-avoiding the question, she pointed to an area just to the north west of the Oshu border and said, "Right here is where I found them. I made a mad run to the city in the hopes of stopping them with preemptive force. I cut a four day journey in half in my desperation."

"Yes," Kojuro acknowledged, knowing Masamune was quietly sitting by, watching them with some interest but knowing not to interfere quite yet, "but why?" He knew trained ninja were able to make feats similar to what she claimed and he had no reason to doubt she was capable of it as well, even if he still doubted her story; it would be no loss anyway, as they were readying to head north anyway to wipe out the remaining resistance and unify all of Oshu at last. It would just be a scenic route. "You come from Odawara. Why aligne yourself _against_ the lord of your province?"

"I hate Oda as much as the other folk around Odawara do," she told him, giving him a look that said she didn't appreciate the prying, "and then some. It's a personal vendetta that drives me and it won't be quieted by anything less than seeing the Devil King's head brought out on a silver platter." Ripe, dark energy was peeling off of Katsumi as she spoke, fighting the snarl that tried to twist onto her face as she spoke of her sworn enemy, her quieted rage seeping out and deflecting Kojuro's usual need for specifics; even he wouldn't invoke the wrath of a scorned woman.

Ever the silent one, Masamune thought to himself, _This girl... Whatever that bastard did, he certainly signed himself up for a violent death._ He himself had neither seen nor had a woman so mercilessly enraged at him, though had heard that such scorned women were terrifying to deal with.

Kojuro had been thinking along much the same lines, but went on to consider the pros and cons of having somebody so blatantly willing to fight the growing threat of Oda, someone willing and able to collect information like the ninja corps of Kai or Kasuga of Echigo. There were many advantages to this idea, but the con that almost outweighed them was his stubborn distrust of the rogue woman. However, on the off chance she was telling the truth, he would be a fool not to act now instead of risking defeat later.

And maybe if she displayed true trustworthiness, this Reiko Katsumi would become a useful addition to the Date Army.

Preparations were set with less than sixteen hourss remaining before confrontation, and at this time, Katsumi was alone in a mostly-unused room which contained nothing more than a single window and two dusty bookshelves, bare of books, which had been indicated specifically for her to remain in when not accompanied by either lord Date or master Katakura, both of whom were busy doing whatever it was warlords did when preparing for battle at night. Two men always guarded her door and never left until their replacements arrived, showing how seriously they took their jobs, changing out every hour on the hour, ensuring she wouldn't escape; she sighed at this. Though her battleskills were lacking for someone trying to survive alone in a wartorn world, her ability to move about unseen was on par with most ninja, so finding a way out would not be terribly difficult if she put her mind to it, but being a practical person, she chose to stay safe and in their good graces by staying patiently in the center of the room, wearing a normal, pale blue kimono a housemaid had brought her on request, her armor set off to the side before one of the great, empty bookshelves; her weapons had been confiscated at the door before the council was conveened and were kept who-knows-where.

I feel naked

, she thought sheepishly, moving her left hand to her right side in a nervous, familiar gesture, feeling only air where her hilt would noramally lie. _I always have _something._ I can't remember ever going without even needles since..._

Hearing movement outside her door, she straightened, waiting. There was nothing else and she assumed it was just the guard changing so she continued to wait.

Katsumi awoke with a start, heart pounding. Something was wrong and it made her ill, her lungs burning, but she still rose from where she'd nodded off some hours ago and went to the paper window, peering out of the damaged cover and freezing.

"Grandma! Grandpa! Wake up! There's a fire! Grandpa? Grandma?"

"F... fire..." she gulped, seeing the outer walls ablaze with bright oranges and yellows. The courtyard was full of fighitng men and corpses, one of which fired flaming arrows into the windows, one of which aimed right where she wa looking from. Barely ducking in time, Katsumi noted: "_Always_ check before sticking your head out a window!" before moving to stomp out the spreading flames, but they burned quickly from the resin coiled around the arrowhead.

Knowing there was no one around, she quickly tugged her kimono off and used it to douse the flames by beating them down before dropping the ruined outfit and turning to don her usual black attire, collected from the armor of dead and defeated samurai and soldiers, which is how she collected her mismatched shoulder and thigh guards, underarmor and breast plate. Between these layers was her black kimono which stopped at her thighs, and under it all was a suit not unlike that of standard ninja garb, made of a light, breathable fabric that helped keep her cool against black's heat-absorbing qualities.

Little good it did without her weapons though, as an arrow or spear would make quick work of her, so of course her next step was to locate and reaquire them, where ever they were. As such, she stepped outside her room cautiously, noting a faint graying near the ceiling that could only be smoke, which explained why her lungs burned so, prompting her to pull her face mask up to filter the ashes so she wouldn't suffocate herself; then she looked down and found a pile on the floor consisting of all her confiscated gear, looking as if they were dropped in a hurry while bringing them to her. It wasn't hard to piece together that their clatter was probably what had woken her as they were dropped so the soldiers outside her door could join the fray in the courtyard.

"Well, alrighty then," she sing-songed offhandedly, strapping everything into place with practiced ease, finally feeling complete before taking a deep, smoke-scented breath and jogging around to the front door, muttering to herself in the barren halls, "It may start with your men, but heed this: I'm coming for you, Oda Nobunaga!"

The front lawn was burning up steadily as numbers dwindled to signle digits as men on both sides contiued to fall left and right, though the Datee seemed to outnumber the Oda almost two-to-one. This was a minor relief, though Katsumi knew anyone would attack her at first glance so she wasn't exactly safe yet. She had to survive the now at all costs if she wanted to be a burden on Oda's existence in the future.

As it were, an Oda footman spotted her and took a furious, running assault toward her, katana raised; simply by side-stepping at the last moment, Katsumi dodged the blind fury and left her foot out and hooked, catching him unawares as he tumbled forward and fell right onto his own katana blade. "Unfortunately," she sighed, looking down at the bleeding body, her aversion to death long buried, eyes cold as a winter pool, "death doesn't cure the stupid."

Just then a cold _zing_ went through her body and she only barely avoided the neck-angled hack by one of the other remaining Oda soldiers; ducking for a second, she heard the blade sing above her head before she spun, whipping up her braid which was curiously weighted by a large, stone ring at the very end which sailed up with the momentum and connected solidly with the cheek of the unlicky man, knocking him out cold and splitting his cheek wide open, crimson gushing from his face.

Crimson...?

A flash of a young man in crimson, weilding twin spears...

Katsumi shook her head to clear it, quickly moving toward the hazy, fire-free corner of the courtyard, staggering slightly in her double-vision. _Now is _not_ the time to go blind!_ she scolded herself. Avoiding conflict was a skill of hers, as she felt she had perfected her ability to "hide in plain sight" and flee from danger unscathed, so she beelined for the willow in the corner, ducking and dancing around conflicts until she was between the wall and the tree trunk, concealed in the dancing shadows. She did a quick estimate of the relative distance between the two vertical surfaces, assumed it was big enough, and readied her _monkey escapes from tiger_ maneuver.

Planting one foot on the tree, the small metal pikes in her shoe digigng into the soft wood, she kicked off, quickly bringing her other foot up and against the wall, propelling herself up, kicking off the trunk again until she could reach the top of the fifteen-foot-high wall, grabbing the ledge with her fingers, swinging herself into her not-yet-perfected move _crescent moon rises_. With the elegance of a crane in flight, she swung her right leg up and over, keeping her body close to the wall, only supported by her hands which were pressed flat to the stone edge, her legs curving in such a way that they resembled the arc of the crescent moon as she rocked over the wall.

Her foot cleared, her knee, her thigh, then her body... Just as she was about to complete this new technique without incident for only the third time, she misjudged the angle of her left foot. With all the grace of a drunk fisherman, her foot caught on the wall's inner edge, jerking her off balance so that she slipped and scraped her leg up, pancaking into the outside of the wall with a hard thud, knocking her senseless. She tumbled down, forming a perfect scorpion impact and jarring her neck into numbness, everything going black.

She lay there for several minutes before swimming back into painful semi-consciousness under some bushing lining the outer perimeter of the manor, having gone completely unnoticed in the fray, her chest, stomach, head, back and leg all throbbing with different levels and types of pain; Katsumi was certain she'd injured her ankle and that it would start swelling up soon. But she couldn't stay there forever or she really _would_ die, so she picked herself up and instinctively shifted into the shadows of the bushes to get her bearings, seeing more clashing out here than inside, though it was obvious that the Oshu army was winning and had the opposing forces on the run, pushing them into the forest nearby. Stepping out, Katsumi start to run, searching for the Dragon and his Right Eye in the bloody battlefield.

Bushes, grasses, battles, bodies and blood all blurred together, masking Katsumi's progress through the field of war, rendering her as nothing more than a shadow bobbing about among the carnage, heading towards the area where the blue converged, dodging fallen men and horses alike, only striking out when she needed, either in defense of herself or one of the Date men who found himself in a pinch. Senbon needles coated in a special poison were her weapons of choice when sniping hapless victims, ensuring that even a glancing blow would be lethal seeing as her aim was only average, only as sharp as she needed it to be to get by. Now, though, she began to think that she'd need to work on that-and a lot more-if she were to survive the warring states era much longer.

Investing in more supplies would be wise as well, as she was down to her last three and stood little chance of recovering the rest at all. She gingerly stroked the pommel of her right-hand knife, leaping over a small trench hidden in the grass and ducking into cover just in time as a pike sailed through the air followed by a shout. Katsumi carefully maneuvered backwards toward the trench as a group of Oda men trampled into the patch of grass she'd ducked into, milling about, searching for signs of her or where she'd gone; not giving the chance to find any, Katsumi shifted onto her stomach and reverse crawled, lowering herself into the ditch and making her way belly-down in the direction the men had come from, stopping only when a body blocked her way, its dead eyes pinning to her spot.

"Grandma, wake up! Fire! We have to get out! Grandma? What's wrong? Get up! Grandma!"

The rush of the vision had her up in a heartbeat, darting away from the phantom of her grandmother and blindly into battle. By the time she came to, she'd garnered quite a bit un unnecessary attention and she wasn't happy about this screw up. A halebard user came running, followed closely by two swordsmen, blade aimed at her chest; reacting quickly, she cross-drew her twin, leaf-shaped blades and spun them in her fingers so the guards rested on her thumbs and forefingers, the flat faces down and making contact with the pike shaft, forcing it away, leaving him open and in the path of her return strike, her wrist turned so the fine edge tore through flesh and tendon, the razor edge cutting like a hot knife into warm butter, severing head from body with enough force to spin it to the ground, blood spraying into the air and covering the men behind him.

The left hand soldier hesitated as blood covered his eyes, causing him to swear and swing blindly, buying Katsumi precious seconds to continue her follow-through, using her momentum to make ringing contact with the other man's katana with the face of her blade just like before, but it sent a painful recoil up her arm while it stunned the soldier, her second blade biting into his neck with a quick stab, killing him before he knew what hit him.

Just then she heard the last man recover and the approach of his blade as it sliced through the air, so she raised her blades in a X formation, catching the katana as metal-on-metal rang like a churchbell in her ear; numbed by the poor counter only moments before, Katsumi's right arm gave out and the sword bit into her shoulder, forcing her to the ground. The man staggered as she cried out in pain, but she didn't hesitate to drop her knives and grab his forearms and haul him over her back Judo-style, sending him headlong into the ground, neck snapping like a twig underfoot.

Without wasting a moment, the rogue woman picked up her precious knives, sheathed them, and continued on her way, staunching her wound with a cloth from her bag as she went, the feeling fading in and out of her arm in waves; hot, prickly, annoying waves. But she reached her destination just in time, the fighting men encircling their lords who stood back-to-back, slowly pivoting and hacking down any enemy who approached them as they searched for some sign of the commanding officer among the chaos. Katsumi hadn't sighted him yet either, but then again she was a tad busy staying alive and swift-killing any Oda soldier who dared show his back to her.

Slowly she made her way to the center circle, swaying with the shadows of the men and mounted fighters around her, her dark armor masking her movement until she reached the edge of the ring, her bright eyes flashing and drawing Kojuro's attention immediately. His eyes narrowed warningly at her, not exactly happy to see her at last, and she met him evenly, searching in her peripheral for anything off, waiting until a sudden feint made the Right Eye break his focus, his head shifting and opening a line of sight for her to the other side of their little battle ring, if only for a moment.

Adrenaline from battle had pushed Katsumi's sensed to their limits-a tiresome and often painful state to be in for prolonged amounts of time-allowing her to, in that brief glimpse, see the man in the crowd that was different from the rest. Dressed in armor identical to that of the common men, his rank insignia winking in and out of sight under a patch of loose leather on his shoulder, he was the only one with a dark cloth wrapped about his face to minimize glare from his skin, much the way she did, employing much the same technique she did to approach the ring unnoticed, his focus solely on Date who hadn't seen him yet.

Growling softly and thinking, _You'll not take my best chance at Oda today!_ she stepped into the circle, shooting forward and leaping high into the air, her hand closing around the three needles that remained in her puch, pulling them out and taking aim in milliseconds as Kojuro turned, fearful that hs assumptions had been correct at she was working for Oda, fearing her target was his lord, not the man he didn't know was fast approaching him. Reacting as such, his hand shot up and caught Katsumi's ankle the instant after she loosed her shots, one flying far and slicing into the backplate of a Date man, another bounced off a swinging sword and hit the ground harmlessly; the thrid flew true and the rogue woman had the pleasure of seeing her mark connect right btween his eyes before she was violently yanked to the ground, a katana suddenly level with her throat.

She froze, glaring down the length of the blade, waiting, Kojuro's gaze fixed on her, unwavering as a statue, waiting to see what she did next. Slowly, the Oda men around ther fallen commander took notice and their attacks began to fall away, spreading in a circle as the murmuring began to radiate across the battlefield, the Date also pausing in their counterattacks, confused about the sudden lapse in battle. It was no surprise to Katsumi that a sudden retreat was called, the dark-armored men falling back in a rush to the nearby woods, grabbing any horse they could and not hesitating to leave their commrades in the dust.

Masamune watched only for a short moment before looking over his shoulder and saying firmly, "Kojuro," which is all it took for the man to sheath his sword and allow the woman to rise. "Good eyes," he told her simply before calling out, "Saddle up! We'll follow 'em and wipe 'em out!"

"Sir," the Right Eye said over the answering cheer as one man brought the Boss Horse up. "We're short on cavalry. Any man that can be spred should assist the injured back to the hall." The young lord nodded his understanding and consent and mounted, leaving his second to relay the order and he twisted in his saddle to look at Katsumi as she dusted her rear off. "You coming with?" he inquired impatiently, though not necessarily rudely.

She smirked, gripping a knife pommel anxiously. "Wouldn't miss it for the world," she answered before quickly adding with a little bow, "_my lord_."

Returning her playfully wicked grin, he held his armor out to her, armor glinting the the early morning sunlight. "Then hop on." Taken aback, Katsumi hesitated; he watched somewhat mindfully as her pink lips parted in surprise, her cerulean eyes widening a bit as she thought it over quickly before grasping his hand and allowing herself to be pulled up. Wistfully, he mused about how even the most beautiful of flowers can have the deadliest of secrets and then about how light she was to his battle-honed muscles, her hand almost delicate in his.

Katsumi exhaled in a rush at the effortless pull Masamune executed, her body leaving the ground with barely a push of her foot, her arms sliding over his armor and robe onto his shoulders, bracing her weight as she swung into place behind not a second too soon, his horse rearing and pivoting the moment after. "Hold on!" he barked, somewhat amused at the way she scrambled close to not fall off, befor ecalling out, "Let's go!" and sending himself charging, his army flowing effortlessly into messy ranks behind him.

Arms settling around his waist, she pulled herself close to him so she wouldn't bounce off the saddle, her thighs lightly squeezing his as she tried to adjust to the movement of the horse beneath her, having never ridden one before, her cheek pressed to the cool armor of his back, his body relaxed but alert against her. Masamune was all too aware of the tight grip she had on him despite the thick metal separating their bodies, snatching a quick glance down at the smooth, pale skin that winked through the torn pant of her suit, the satin appearance becoming extremely inviting to him. But they had a battle to finish so they could chalk up another total victory to their list of many.


	4. Chapter 3

The Date pursued the Oda all the way to the feild of Hitotoribashi where they met an even larger force that outnumbered them three-to-one; it didn't sway the young lord, even when his second advised against further attack. After a back-and-forth, Kojuro relented and called to encircle the waiting camp, his manner suddenly becoming closed off; Katsumi noticed this in the way his eyes glazed over before suddenly being thrust into battle again.

_Although the Date army stood victorious at this battle, it was due in part to the lives given that day, in no small numbers. Despite a grevious wound to his forearm, Date Masamune commanded his men to the very end until only his army stood victorious. The rogue woman, Reiko Katsumi, had been sent back for reinforcements and then detained for medical aid until their victorious return, the test of her loyalty completed._

Katsumi, in a plain gray kimono, with her hair pinned up on her head rather than braided down her back, rushed to the main structure of the half-rebuilt compound, her medical satchel gripped firmly in her hands. Sliding the door to the main bedroom open with a quick shove, she stepped into the room, kicked the door shut and lay her twin blades by the door before approaching the form of the Big Boss of Oshu, her manner all business tinged with worry, seeing his helmet and half his armor already removed as he sat uneasily, his face pale, slightly green even, with Kojuro at his side along with several eager men, systematically removing panel after sheild after guard from their lord, revealing a bloody wound bit-by-bit. The rogue/healer hesitated, fingers touching her lips for a moment in slight shock before continuing forward, all eyes trained on her warily, aside from Masamune, who was mildly aggrivated with his condition and glaring despite himself.

"I came as soon as I could," she explained softly, moving to the lord's injured right side beside Kojuro and folding to her knees, immediately shifting her weight to her right leg, unpacking her materials without really paying attention. "What on earth happened?"

Date turned his head away, obviously ego-hurt by the outcome of the battle and she frowned at him, likening him to a child who got scolded for eating sweets before supper, pulling a cloth from her satchel.

On his behalf, Kojuro answered solemnly and with muted honesty, "If you hadn't sent reinforcements, it would have been very different. We of the Date are in your debt."

Katsumi paused in unpacking and glanced up at him. "Why? You're the one who sent me."

He didn't meet her eyes. "It was a test of your loyalty and resolve. If you'd used the opportunity to escape, we would have been annihilated." Masamune huffed. "With lord Masamune injured,"-his jaw ticked-"defeat was certain. Until the men arrived."

She saw the men who ran the stripped armor to its case smiling, obviously proud of themselves and happy they were able to do their duty. "So you blindly bet on a stranger, despite all the risks?" she summarized, slightly stunned. He nodded. "Then I imagine you must be extremely relieved I'm of the stock that's loyal to her cause."

"Indeed," the Right Eye grumbled as the last of the armor left his lord's arm.

Katsumi's hands flew to her mouth to stifle the shocked gasp that almost escaped from her throat at the sight of the infected gash that ran up the length of Masamune's forearm, seeing Kojuro and the men pale, even as the lord refused to look. Then her training took over and stilled her mind, bringing her up to her feet, weight on her right leg, knocking some of her supplies over; her stance and demeanor hummed with authority, prompting Kojuro to relent to the thought of giving her control over the situation seeing as she knew best what she was doing. She wielded that control insitnctively and precisely without hesitation, barring judgement and question effectively. Her voice was clear but hurried, her orders as direct as the finger she used to point.

"Master Katakura, please finish removing the armor as soon as possible. Carefully. You," she then pointed at one of the men, "keep doing what you have been. And you," she swung to the other, recognizing him from the gate the day she arrived, "Samanosuke? I need you to get me a tub of hot water-and I do mean hot-as many clean cloths as you can find, bandages, a needle and twine, a clean bowl and some sake. I'll have a list of herbs to retrieve by the time you return. Get as much help as you can gather, the faster we do this the better."

Everyone hesitated a moment too long, Masamune sparing her a curious, side-long glance, impressed with her control of the situation, trying to keep his injury out of his sight. Katsumi opened her mouth to shout when young Date, also mildly surprised by her change of attitude, said dismissively, "What's the big deal? It's just a cut. I'll heal eventu-_YEOW!_" he hollered when the ebony beauty shot her hand out and seized his ear so quickly no one had time to blink, ensuring his attention and Kojuro's stunned silence.

"You listen to me and you listen to me well, Date Masamune," she growled, looking him dead in the eye, seeing the startled shame of a punished child yet again. "The blade that cut you, I assume it was poorly cared for? Rusty, dirty, dull?"

Kojuro acknowledged queitly, "It had seen plenty of battle... but little care..."

She went on with a nod, "It not only cut you down to the bone-don't lie, I can see it from here-which is already a disaster, but it _infected_ you too. Severely. Which means you have three options,"-she held up three fingers on her free hand-"either I treat it now and give you the best possible chance of recovery; you leave it be and lose your arm completely before it poisons your blood,"-Kojuro and the soldiers all gasped sharply, the remaining color finally draining from Masamune's face-"_or_ you keep your arm, wallow in misery with a fever for a few days, have a couple hallucinations, and then die. Which do you prefer?"

Masamune grunted, disquieted, considering the options unnecessarily before sighing. Uneasily, he inquired, "What is it you're planning to do?"

"Stitch you up," she answered without hesitation. "It will help prevent further infection and minimize grotesque scarring. It's the best way to heal." Katsumi looked at Samanosuke and scowled, pointing at the door and bellowing, "GO!" and watching him scurry off with a yelp before moving to the bookshelf in the far corner and pulling out a sheaf of paper and a charcoal stick. "I'm going to borrow these if that's alright," she told them, not waiting for an answer but not being stopped either as she scribbled the herbs required, pulling a small, tan booklet from her kimono and flipping through the papyrus pages to double check her accuracy.

Kojuro sat rigidly, having a silent conversation with his lord using only his eyes and hands, as they sometimes did; it was their uncanny ability to read each other's thoughts by nothing more than expression that made them a perfect, indomitable force, and the men of the Date knew it in their guts that Katakura and Date together were a force to be reckoned with.

_I don't like this_, the Right Eye thought, jaw clenched and knuckles bleached white with tension.

_I don't either_, Date's good eye seemed to agree, betraying his worry as he huffed again. He already knew Kojuro felt responsible for his injury as it was, but hearing the full extent voiced, no matter how true it was, only drove home the guilt further. The fathomless loyalty he knew Kojuro felt for him could quite possibly drive him to do something wreckless or insane, defining how vital it was to show everyone-even himself-he was fine. Or at least would be.

Taking a deep breath, the young lord rolled his sleeve up and tucked it at his shoulder, carefully extricating his injured arm and shying away from his second's insistant hands, clenching his jaw; from the edge of his wrist to within a few centimeters of his elbow, a long, ugly, puss-lined gash deep enough to reveal bone stood out against his pale skin in black-and-crimson gore, a battlefield in its own right. It was long past hurting of its own accord, as numbness had begun to crawl through his arm.

In all honesty, though he would never admit it, Date Masamune was frightened. He knew how serious the wound was, but revealing that would make his second-in-command-and dearest friend-even more self-incriminating, hence why he tried to play it off, wanting to discuss with the rogue later what the truth was, but she saw through it instantly, and seeing it at last, he knew trying to play it off wouldn't be possible; he felt sick to his stomach. The only way to ease everyone's nerves was to have this injury stitched up as quickly as possible. With a ragged sigh, he said, "Let's do it," and silenced Kojuro's protest with a sharp look. "Kojuro, we can handle this. Go help Samanosuke. Katsumi is right, the quicker we do this the better."

Pursing his lips, the Right Eye nodded and bowed before rising and moving toward the doorway. Katsumi, withholding a shiver from hearing her first name used so casually by a lord, stopped him just as his hand grasped the handle. "Master Katakura," she said, somewhat pleadingly, holding the parchment out, double folded. "Everything helps."

They locked eyes for a moment as his fingers touched the rough paper, his breath stopping for a second as he saw not the eyes of a rogue assassin, but rather the eyes of a young woman determined to help; the eye of the dragon doubled over, the same amazing blue and deep strength of will present within her as he saw every day with his lord Date.

"I'll do what I can," he assured her, leaving in a blink, the door shutting quietly.

Katsumi, try as she might to fight it, was shaking, but she kept her spine straight as she marched over to Masamune and took it upon herself to finish removing his armor, although she did it somewhat clumsily, as critical treaments always ran her nerves to their breaking point. "I'm sorry," she murmured, biting her lip. "I've never... had to remove armor like this before..."

"What'd'you mean?" he murmured back, watching her with a surprisingly gently gaze.

Humorless amusement made her eyes twinkle dully, as her attention was elsewhere. "The armor I've removed in my time was only necessary pieces pilfered from dead bodies."

Masamune quirked his brow curiously but she didn't see, her focus on his injury, a small furrow marring the smooth skin between her brows. Then she glanced up and leaned forward until their foreheads touched, his body locking up with alarm as she swore quietly. "You're getting a fever." He bit the inside edge of his lip in frustration. "Lay down."

Defiance flashed through his mind for a brief moment, being naturally stubborn and opposed to being told what to do ene if it's for his own good, but her hand-dainty and delicate, a surprise to think they were the hands of a rogue-went to his armor-free chest and gave a surprisingly forceful shove; she was stronger than she appeared.

"Now. Please."

Relenting, he leaned back, trying to relax as Katsumi returned to his injured side to take a closer look at his wound. With delicate, almost feathery touches, she felt along his arm, making a detail note in her mind of everything she found, the spare man sitting uneasily in the back of the room, unsure of what to do next.

Fever fatigue was starting to settle in Masamune's flushed body and clouding mind, but he forced himself to stay awake through sheer will power, watching Katsumi intently until there was a frantic knock on the door. Katsumi half rose to answer it when the jittery soldier lept up and beat her to it and opening the door to at least half a dozen Date subordinates, all laden with something from the list of her necessities. They tumbled in and fanned out to allow the two in the rear to bring in a large wok of heavily steaming water and an iron grill, resting the burning container on top of it at her side as the others brought forward all of her requested items and laying them around her before forming a loose semi-circle, leaning on each other restlessly, murmuring back and forth and asking pointless questions they went ignored.

"Wow," the woman hummed, taken slightly aback. "When something needs done you guys sure deliver."

"P-please," one man begged, his chin covered with a simply, navy guard, "miss Reiko, please help Number One."

Masamune grunted, grinning cockily as he usually did. "I'll be fine. I'll get all stitched up and be back on the battlefield in no time. _Got it?_"

"Of course Big Boss!" they all answered, their faces lighting up with hope, their admiration and care plain as day.

It warmed her heart and made Katsumi smile gently to see, but the feeling didn't last long. "I'd prefer to wait for master Katakura to return with the herbs, but I need to start while the water is hot so..." She paused for a second. "This will hurt. A lot."

Setting his face determinedly, he nodded, braced for the worst. Katsumi arranged everything beside herself in a somewhat-orderly fashion, then dipped one of the larger cloths into the hot, steaming wok or water, wrung it out and unfolded it to use one corner at a time as effectively as possible. "You men," she said carefully while laying the young lord's arm across her lap, "please be ready to hold him if his moves too much. Excessive motion will cause more harm than good. And stay silent so I may concentrate." They all nodded and murmured consent, gathering as close as they dared, waiting. Katsumi squeezed Masamune's hand, looking him in the eye where he lay. "Please," she said gently, "try to relax your arm. It will be easier that way." He nodded and closed his eye, braced for contact but keeping his arm as loose as he could.

What had died down to an aggrivating ache quickly exploded into searing pain as the supposedly-soft cloth came into contact with the raw, blood-and-puss caked slash, reopening blood vessels and making the One-Eyed Dragon bite back a cry of pain and reflexively wanting to jerk away, swearing under his breath; Katsumi's hand clamped down on his wrist to hold him in place, folding the stained corner down on itself to use the clean side. This repeated for several, long, excruciating minutes: Masamune fighting his need to pull away from the searing burn, Katsumi and some of his men restrraining him until he settled, over and over until the first third of the wound had been thoroughly cleansed, blood flowing out and refilling the cut like rain water into a ditch.

"This is a bitch," he huffed, sweat trickling down his forehead.

"You're telling me," she replied, tying her own sleeves up and wiping her forehead. "Let him go, boys, Let's give him a moment."

Suddenly, the door burst open to reveal Kojuro, arms laden with numerous small, clay jars, one of which actually had a plant growing out of it. Leaving the door wide open, the second-in-command set all the jars down around the wok and rose up to his full height, his suspicious glare focused solely on Katsumi. He demanded, "What's going on?" seeing how ragged his lord looked and the way the men clustered around him.

"Preventative measures," Katsumi replied evenly, meeting his gaze. "Please tell me, master Katakura, what you were able to find?"

A second longer he glared before looking to his burden. "Everything except the onino yagara. The kumazasa is dried, not fresh."

"And the ashitaba?"

"Fresh."

"That's perfect then, thank you." Shifting her weight slightly, Katsumi reached for one of the jars and looked into it, taking a quick sniff before replacing it and checking the rest, murmuring to herself, totally zoning out the others in the room. Kojuro and the rest sat or knelt and watched her work with varying levels of anxiety, though Date's expression was surprisingly calm as he studied her. Thankful now for the extra bowls, Katsumi filled one with the still-steaming water and placed it by her knee before reaching for two of the jars she'd placed apart from the rest.

Opening them both, she removed generous pinches of the dry, dusty herbs and sprinkled them into the water to steep them, her voice muted as she said to herself, "_Sasa senanensis Rehd _to cleanse... _Glehnia littoralis Fr. Schm_ to quell pain..." before discarding the first cloth she'd used for a new one, falling silent and autonomus as she worked. The rag absorbed the herb soup quickly; she wrung it out slightly, loosely rolled it up and lay it gently along the wound, wincing slightly in sympathy as her patient hiss with the sting. "The edges are healthy," she explained, touching his cheek with the back of her hand for a moment and _tsk_ing at the heat she felt. "It will absorb the medicine quickly and start to cleanse itself while the pain should start to dull away any moment now." She gingerly touched the water remaining in the wok. "We might need a new batch of hot water soon, though."

Without missing a beat, Kojuro said, "Magobei, Yoshinao, see to it," and the over-weight soldier and one with odd hair scrambled up with a quick, simultaneous, "Yessir!" before they scurried out the door, a cool breeze blowing in and soothing Masamune's hot body.

"Thank you," she told him softly; Kojuro nodded. Turning back to her task, Katssumi pinched the rag in several places to wring some of the medicine into the wound before setting it aside, grabbing yet another new cloth, dipping it into the cooling herb-and-water mixture and squeezing it semi-dry so she could start cleaning it out again. Date hissed again and clenched his fist, but he was thankful the pain was more like an awful scratch that a vicious stab now and he sighed with relief.

"It's a miracle," he quipped, trying to relax his arm. "That's much better."

"Big Boss!" some of his men said with relief, finally realizing he woulld be alright after all; he just grinned at them.

She smiled down at him but didn't stop working until the wound was raw and clean and bleeding fresh again, which took long enough for her patience to start wearing thin with the way his body seem to be even more sensitive to aggrivating sensations rather than the painful ones. Wiping her forehead and heaving a sigh, she leaned back a moment to clear the used materials away and jumped slightly as she put weight on her ankles, hoping no one noticed, whiling singling another man out of the shrinking crowd. "Please tell the others in the kitchen that we won't need the hot water brought in after all. Tell them instead to prepare some tea for later and to bring a dish of cool water back, alright?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said, slightly confused, before leaving.

Kojuro murmured curiously, "Tea?" but was ignored as Katsumi poured the sake into a bowl and submerged the twine and needle into it and drying them on a clean cloth, reapplying the painkiller to Masamune's arm before biting her lip and gulping silently.

Date, gravely silent until now, asked quietly, "Time for that already?" and she nodded, glancing over her shoulder.

"Master Katakura, come hold his army steady for me," she whispered. He heard and moved stiffly to her other side, gripping his lord's wrist firmly but not painfully.

"You're sure you can do this?" he inquired warily.

"Yes," she answered quickly. "This isn't the first time I've stitched a wound up, but there's always the chance his body burns off the painkiller before I finish, and if it does I won't be able to stop or the stitching will go slack and become a new complication I don't want to have to deal with. That's why we'll need to be ready to hold him so if he moves I don't stick him somewhere I'm not trying to."

"I am right here you know," Date sighed, rolling his eye.

"Sorry," the pair murmured, flushing.

"So what's with the sake?" he wondered, trying to buy a little time.

"The alcohol sterilizes much more effectively than hot water," Katsumi answered automatically, threading the needle and twisting the end into a knot so she could begin the stitching process.

The anxiety level in the room rose sharply as Katsumi positioned the needle at the end closest to his elbow, taking a deep breath and saying, "Here we go."


	5. Chapter 4

Okay, so yes, another chapter but my first monologue, woo-hoo! I decided to establish the relationship between Kojuro and Masamune simply for the sake of 1) I love the idea and 2) as open-ended as this series is, I still don't like yaoi, so bleh. also, my minions-or more suitably to the world portrayed, my precious sons of bitches-comment and stuff in the little box provided below, as feedback generally helps to motivate so if you likey the worky, writey the commenty por favor. it'd be nice to know what everyone thinks of Katsumi and how she interacts with everyone and if you think she's a good character. blah blah blah, ON WITH THE STORY!

Big Boss of Oshu, Date Masamune, slept soundly in his futon, his right arm bandaged from elbow to finger and laid above his covers, his breathing slow and even, totally oblivious to the confrontation outside his room. His Right Eye, Katakura Kojuro, while overwhelmed with relief, was not happy about the present circumstances at all and he showed it by glaring disapprovingly at the woman who had effectively saved the young lord's life while also temporarily taking him out of commission.

"You can stop burning holes in my skull any minute now," Reiko Katsumi huffed, arms folded in annoyance.

"Was sedating lord Masamune really necessary?" he inquired gruffly, watching her flex her right hand in her lap; she'd insisted on sitting down on a non-level surface after exiting the room, her energy spent.

"I warned him," she retorted, digging her nails into her palm. "He was moving too much and I was getting annoyed."

"So you sedate anyone who annoys you?"

Looking him dead in the eye she said, "Yes," rolling her shoulder carefully.

Kojuro shook his head and sighed, knowing that being mad was pointless; his lord was fine now so it was not as if she did anything wrong per se, he just wasn't a fan of pharmecuitically decommissioning a war vitcim during surgery unnecessarily. "Tactics aside," he went on, "I do owe you a great deal of thanks for your help. If lord Masamune had..." He stopped, glaring into his own lap, having joined her in order to scold her. "I wasn't prepared for the decoy they'd preepared. That Oda's retreat would lead us right into the army that we'd been hunting for and using them to cover their own escape..."

"The Oda are cowards," Katsumi said in a low tone, her eyes flashing dangerously. "They'll kill everyone, man, woman or child, regardless of age. They use cheap tricks and press an unfair advantage at every chance. Overkill doesn't even begin to describe their methods."

Sensing a change of topic was necessary, he delfected her mood and continued with, "We finally unified Oshu but I hope Masamune doesn't feel it was a victory worth the sacrifice it cost us..."

Kastumi reigned her emotions in and pushed her lip out, noticing the sudden informal way Kojuro was speaking about his lord. "Judging by his thoughtful and pouty behavior, I'd say he knows. He's upset about it too, with good reason. You won the battle but lost the fight, so to say."

Grunting his agreement, Kojuro asked, "How long will it take to heal?"

"Just a couple weeks, if he takes care of it. It's a deep wound and it will scar no mattr what I did, but at least now he'll have no inhibition of movement and at worst he'll have a permanent, purple scar as wide as a grain of rice. Which is much, much better than it could have been. I'll have to prepare an oiintment for whenever the badages are changed, which will have to be tonight after the evening meal."

"You're welcome to our store room."

"Thank you." She fidgeted slightly and he noticed.

"What is it?"

"Nothing," she lied, gently rotating her left ankle. "Just winding down, thinking."

"On?"

_Nosey_.

Hesitating, she studied his face for a long moment, noting off-handedly that he was very handsome man, even though his stick-in-the-ass demeanour detracted from his overall appeal; he couldn't be older than twenty-six. "How long," she began, pushing the oddness away, "will you require my presence? I'm certain you have people competent enough to take over from here on. I understand the need to have the person who's done the work present if anything were to happen, but is it really necessary?"

"That's actually what I wanted to discuss with you, miss Reiko. With lord Masamune," he added. "Consciously."

"Oh," was all she mustered, lookind away from him so he wouldn't see the way her face flushed.

Then to her surpise, he asked, "Are you alright?"

"Yes," she ansered. "Why?"

"You've been flexing your hand since we sat down. Is something wrong with it?"

"Oh, um, no, not really," Katsumi blustered, immediately squeezing her numb hand into her good one.

"Don't lie," Kojuro said sternly, reaching up and grabbing her shoulder, trying to turn her around; his grip was firm but he jerked it away in surprise when the woman cried out in paim, his fingers touched by red, seeing the prints where blood had soaked through her kimono.

Swearing, she tugged her sleeve down, not caring in the least when Kojuro jumped, face going aflame and knocking his head against the roof support, seeing here field bandage was soaked through and beginning to turn black as it dried. "I forgot," she said hurriedly, giving him a quick glance. "I'm fine, really, just forgot to change my bandage. It's not deep, I'll be right back." Then she was up and gone before he could open his mouth to stop her, limping visibly, rubbing his head gingerly.

When Katsumi returned in a fresh, deep blue kimono with her shoulder freshly bandaged, she found Kojuro in the same place she'd left him, his hand cleaned off and his body relaxed as he leaned on the pillar behind him, staring hard out into the courtyard where men bustled back and forth to repair the fire damage. She settled back into her original place, laying her wrapped ankle out before her, also watching, feeling how his curiosity burned beneath a careful control he maintained out of courtesy. Quietly, she answered his unspoken question. "I'm not much of a fighter. I hurt myself while hopping the wall and got ambushed on my way out to find you both. My parrying was clumsy and I got injured because of it. All the moving around earlier opened my wound is all, it's really not deep. If I hadn't collapsed like I did it would've been worse."

"I see," he acknowledged, now understanding why all the struggling and moving would aggrivate her so. "But why did you have to hop the wall? Lord Masamune sent your weapons back when the first soldiers appeared in town and requested that you be outfitted for battle and escorted out the emergency exit to join us. He wondered if you'd run off."

Katsumi stared, baffled. "What do you mean? I nodded off while waiting and found my weapons discarded in the hallway outside the door."

Kojuro leaned his head back and sighed, rubbing his face. "That figures. We were caught by surprise. The enemy appeared several hours earlier than expected, so the chaos probably distracted the man he sent."

"Probably. I don't blame him. As far as I'm concerned, I'm a mysterious stranger that can't be trusted and of no concern to them so I understand."

"That will most likely change now as word speads of lord Masamune's recovery by your hands."

"That would be nice for once..."

Kojuro pondered but decided he'd done enough brooding and prying into her life for the moment and rse as silence stretched between them, stating simply, "I'm going to go help with repairs."

Katsumi rose too, noticibly favoring her injured ankle, brushing her dress down. "And I'm going to the recovery hall to be of use. Lord Date with be asleep a while longer so I will check on him later."

"So will I."

Several hours passed full of administering ointment, changing bandages and breaking up scuffles caused by Restless-Bed Sydrome, as she tended to call it, began to descend on her in wards. Eventually, she completed her rounds and returned to Masamune's room to see if he'd woken yet, her satchel slung across her body and bobbing against her hip as she walked. Pausing at the door, she found herself fiddling with her hair, patting down fly-aways before touching the handle and giving it a very soft tug.

The door slid open forcefully, jerking her arm and pulling her forward with an _oomph_ right into a wall of hard, warm muscle that grunted as they bumped each other. It was young Date, his gaze slightly unfocused as he shook off the last traces of the drug, his brow furrowing as he tried to place her face. "Katsumi...?" he slurred, his body swaying heavily against the door frame.

"Y-yes," she stammered in surprise until her good sense set in. "Why are you up? The valerian isn't out of your system yet! Back to bed. Now. Go." She pointed into his room and he drunkenly followed her finger for a moment, then looked back at her, wanting to protest.

He would've too if his body weren't so numb and heavy and his tongue so big-feeling in his mouth, slurring his words and annoying him greatly; there was nothing he could do about it as she gently pushed him back into his futon, lecturing him on his impatience. At first he'd hoped she'd be a refreshing and new point of conversation, but now he was certain he'd just gotten himself another Kojuro instead; one who wasn't afraid of or restricted in acting out against him.

Date slouched back into his bed roll and lay down, tuning out the rogue's incessant scolding as the haze threatened to claim him again despite not being the least bit tired. Still, he did not complain when she checked his injury for signs of strain, her delicate fingers stroking his skin gently, soothing away his aggrivation like a balm. It unravelled his thoughts and his tongue, making speak out of delirious fog as his vision began to grow dark with sleep. "Y'know... y' remin' me of m' mom a lil' bit..."

Katsumi started, rocking her weight off her bad ankle as it began to ache beyond its limit again, leaning her shin against the frame of his tucked-away bed. "Your... mother?"

He chuckled a bit, staring up at the ceiling. "She used t'scold me 'lot fer gettin' in t' trouble. Lecture me 'n' grab me by m' ear 'll th' time. Wasn't th' best kid ev'r. 'Course, yer much prettier..." His eye closed slowly.

Blushing, she looked away from him, feeling her heart pound in her chest. "Y-you shouldn't say things like that when you're delirious."

He'd fallen back asleep and didn't hear her.

A wry smile touched her lips, even though she chalked that random compliment up to drug-induced loss of common sense as she rolled the young lord's sleeve down and lay his arm carefully under the warm cover, her mind acutely focused on the sleeping man now. _To think_, she mused while gently laying her fingers on his cheek, feeling the weakened fever and wetting the rag he'd discarded on the floor in the bowl at the foot of his bed to lay it across his forehead, _he's barely older than I am yet he's inherited a castle, raised an army with enough loyalty to shame some of the oldest generals I know of and unified the entirety of Oshu. He keeps this up and he'll definitely be the first one to conquer the country, if that's his intention._ He didn't seem like such a bad guy either. His boyish behavior could be rather endearing if he wasn't jeopradizing his health with it.

She cupped his face gently, studying him.

"What's going on here?" Kojuro demanded anxiously, his sudden presence startling her.

"_Shh!_" she hissed, jumping away from the bed. "He's alseep! I was checking on him, like I said I was going to!"

"Why was the door open?" he asked next, lowering his tone immediately.

She huffed. "Because this knucklehead," she gestured to the incapacitated young Date, "decided he'd try and walk around while still half-drugged and off his rocker. It was distracting. He's stubborn."

That was so much like Masamune that Kojuro let slide her disrespectful name calling, as he knew how hard-headed the young man could be when he really didn't want to do something, choosing to thank her rather than berate her. Then he went on suspiciously, "You didn't drug him again, did you?"

Katsumi looked him dead in the eyes. "A second dose on top of another that hasn't run its course could be lethal. Contrary to popular belief, I do not and never plan to kill him. He dropped off on his own after I got him back in bed. His fever has broken."

"Oh," the older man puffed, deflated. "That's good..." A moment of silence passed in which she found and measured Masamune's pulse, which ended when he suddenly said, "Miss Reiko?"

"Hm?"

It wasn't necessarily a matter of pride that made him hesitate. No, he was just unaccustomed to extending deep, repetitive thanks to an outsider and it was beginning to make him uncomfortable. He flushed, glad she wasn't looking. "I have..." She looked up at him and his cheeks burned brighter. "_We_," he amended quickly, bowing deeply to her, his head down, "as in the army as a whole, owe so much to you. In effect, you have saved the lives and honor of every man still breathing within Yonezawa castle. You've prevented a terrible tragedy by healing lord Masamune's grave injury. You also provided us with the chance we needed to win at Hitotoribashi; without your warning, we would have been caught completely unawares and eliminated. You are entitled to anything you desire that's within our power to grant. No one will withhold anything from you. You are a hero of Oshu. The men are already spreading rumors about you."

Faintly, so much so she almost missed it if not for her keen eyes, a fleeting smile and look of respect flashed across his face as he straightened, but it was gone when she blinked, feeling heat burn in her face as she tried to process what he'd said and done. "No, please," she started, flustered and unable to think. "My motives were selfish to begin with. Don't praise me like this."

"Why not?"

"I came here to warn you because you were the strongest force I could reach. I wanted to see the Oda erradicated. But..." Katsumi was unsure of how to explain the next part and she looked at the floor. "After getting to meet you all, I saw immediately how strong everyone here is connected. Lord Date garners so much respect from everyone because he is strong and kind of heart; that was evident when I saw how frantic the men became when they came to this room to help. His strength of leadership and sense of honor have even won me over, and I'm a hardhead myself about that sort of thing." She smiled to herself. "It was after seeing that when I wanted to help you all, not just for myself. I heard a lot of wonderful things when I reached the town about how lord Date and master Katakura got involved with the people and always did their best to look out for the common folk. There were boys in the street who were playing a little war game and they started arguing over who got to be the Date side and who got to be beaten to a pulp. I didn't want to see the Oda destroy this. I would hate myself forever if I did."

When she looked up again, she was shocked to see the uninhibited, endearing look on the Right Eye's face as he listened to her explain, and it was that moment when she saw that he was indeed a very handsome man-now that he didn't have that permanent scowl on his face; she seemed to be caught between two strong, attractive males now, which had not happened before in her life and it made her heart flutter.

"Lord Masamune is indeed a very impressive, unique young man and I am honored to serve under him," he said very quietly, watching the young lord as he slept.

Without thinking, Katsumi suddenly realized, "You love him," and immediately covered her mouth, both their faces going bright red. "Not like that! I swear!" she said quickly, waving her hands. "You've served the Date house for a long time, right?"

"Yes," he said tightly, the moment dead and gone.

"So by love I mean you watched lord Date grow up and have gotten attached to him as if he were your own son, or even a little brother!"

Huffing, Kojuro nodded. "I admit, yes, my affections for lord Masamune go slightly beyond that of a loyal retainer because I had the honor of caring for him when he was a boy. I am glad you understand that but do not say things like that so carelessly."

"I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking," she said quickly, bowing deeply.

"Aw," a voice suddenly croaked. "Yer makin' me 'll warm 'n' fuzzy here."

Both of them jumped, Katsumi twisting around and jarring her ankle, a screech dying in her throat by sheer force of will, kicking her leg behind her so that only her toes rested on the ground and trying to be subtle. Kojuro's face was still more red than he would prefer it to be and his discomfort was more than evident in the way he stuttered. "L-lord Masamune, I thought-we thought-you were asleep."

"How c'n anyone sleep with y' two bickerin' like an ol' couple?" he drawled, fighting a yawn.

"Forgive us, lord Masamune, we'll leave right away."

"Kojuro," he stated, shaking his head slightly but still amused at how flustered his friend was. "S'okay, I wasn' really tired 'nyway. Listenin' t' y' two is fun."

"We should still go," Katsumi piped up, trying not to make her limp obvious as she moved away from the bed. "You need to rest until the valerian is out of your system completely."

"'M fine, really," he insisted. "Jus' starvin'. 'N' m' arm's startin' t' ache."

"I'll go see to having food prepared, lord Masamune," Kojuro said quickly, turning toward the doorway as Katsumi added, "And I'll go prepare an edible dose of painkiller for you to take," but the young lord said his retainer's name in a tone that made him stay and allowing Katsumi to pass, his nerves showing.

"My lord?" he inquired when Date said nothing else.

It wasn't visible from across the room, but Masamune knew that his own cheeks were flushed, though not from the fever he had; well, not completely. He'd just heard everything and even if he'd never show the extent of his feelings, he was touched by what he'd heard and he wasn't going to leave his dearest friend go as flustered as he was. But, naturally, he found it hard to express himself properly right away.

"Thanks," he decided on after another moment of silence.

"Sir?"

He turned his face away so Kojuro could only see the back of his head. "Fer always bein' there fer me..."

For a moment, Katakura couldn't say anything, but then, in a rare triple-header that happens almost never, he smiled once again and bowed, even though he knew Date couldn't see it. "My life is lived at your side, lord Masamune. I wouldn't have it any other way." Then he left, closing the door quietly and leaving the young man to his thoughts.

For several minutes, he stayed quiet, calming himself down. Now alone, he could say what he'd originally wanted to, even if it had no point now.

"Love you too, pops..."


	6. Chapter 5

Katsumi and Kojuro walked side-by-side in bitter silence, one carrying a tray of food, the other a tray with tea, unable to look at each other after the awkward moment in Masamune's room earlier. They both knew what had happened was extremely significant but neither wanted to acknowledge it so they maintained mutual silence, putting it away for an undetermined length of time. Other things were becoming more important as the day progressed anyway: Kojuro was losing himself in his thoughts-a deep, dark place that dominated his mind-and Katsumi was worried about her ankle, which had probably swelled to twice its size by now and she needed to get off of it as soon as possible and soak it in cold water. Date came first, though, as she determined him to be the worse of of the two.

They reached his room and found him sitting up in his bed, staring at his injured arm blankly, tucking it away when he heard them enter. "Hey you two," he said, his voice much clearer now. "Kiss and make up, did we?"

They both stopped, blanching and blushing, Katsumi's teapot almost falling over and Kojuro's tay almost dropping from his hands as they shouted together, "Absolutely not!" which made him laugh.

"I'm just teasing you two. Sheesh."

"Lord Masamune," Kojuro grunted, laying the tray across his lap carefully, "that is not something to joke about."

"Hey," he shrugged, looking down at his food, "if you two got the hots for each other, go for it. Don't mind me."

"_Lord Masamune!_" they shouted together again, the tea upsetting itself all over the tray as she tried to mix it and burning her hand. No one paid mind to her as the two men were going back and forth about what was deemed appropriate to joke about and what wasn't so she pulled out a bandage from her sleeve and wrapped her hand, tugging the large bell over her hand to hide it; she didn't like others to know if she was ill. She didn't like being more of a target than she already was, and right now it was a big target she'd painted on herself. Her ankle throbbed and quivered and she was sure it was spraining now and she scolded herself for being so stubborn.

While they bickered, she successfully prepared a cup of tea and poured the dry painkiller mix in before serving it to the aquiescent lord and setting the tray aside. "The painkiller is in the tea," she explained, bowing. "I ask to take my leave of you, lord Date."

"Eh?" he grunted, lifting the cup with his good hand-the injury made it impossible to do much of anything with his right arm-and swirling it around a bit. "Right, you've been running around all day. Go ahead and rest. There's a room-a real one," he added, remembering they'd kept her in a spare closet before as it provided less chance for her to escape than a spare bedroom, "down the hall and on the first left, second door. I'd show you but..."

"I can find it," she assured, smiling politely at him before rising, visibly rocking off her left foot, stressed sweat running down her neck; she felt dizzy. Turning, she remembered to try and play off her injury as best she could, but she realized quickly that sitting to mix the tea was a mistake.

Masamune and Kojuro both saw her hasty shift in weight and neither was about to let it slide; Date didn't know about her shoulder, but his second assumed it was opening again and making her dizzy with bloodloss and overwork. They both tried to ask her if she was alright when she took her first step away, right onto her bad foot; her ankle gave out and yelped, falling onto her knee which sent a painful jolt to her hip; she fell to her side and landed squarely on her injured shoulder, opening the wound once again and bringing another pained sound fro her throat, her sleeve falling up her arm to reveal her wrapped wrist. Startled, both men made a move toward her, but Masamune bumped the tray over his knees and went ot catch it before everything spilled, aggrivating his wound a bit; Kojuro rushed over and knelt beside her, careful not to touch her injury as he lifted her to a sitting position.

"What's wrong?" he asked, seeing how pale her face was.

Katsumi knew when to give up faking, and she was so tired she didn't care anymore. "My ankle..." she moaned, feeling blood running down her back once again. Kojuro took a quick glance at her feet and saw how she'd bandaged her ankle and noticed that even with the binding it was swelling up and he scoffed.

"You're as wreckless as lord Masamune," he chided, lifting her onto her feet and making himself a crutch as she took all her weight off her left side.

"So I get ratted out for walking around with an injury while you're doing the same thing just because no one knew," said wreckless lord complained, scowling. "The hell is up with that?"

She laughed slightly, feeling ashamed. "Do as I say, not as I do?"

"Not a good leadership quality," Kojuro commented before dipping his head a bit. "Lord Masamune, I will return shortly after taking miss Reiko to the room you offered."

"Take your time," he replied, starting on his meal since he had nothing better to do.

With that, Kojuro quickly scooped Katsumi into his arms and walked out, ignoring how she protested about being carried until they reached what would eventually become her personal living quarters. He set her on the bed, his face unreadable, hers turned away. "It was the quickest way," he stated plainly, stepping away from her and taking his leave.

Katsumi thought to herself, arms folded, _One of these days I'm going to give him a piece of my mind. _But until then, she deigned to sleep and let her ankle get the rest it deserved.

A few hours later, Katsumi was awoken by a knock at her door. Quickly, she slipped her kimono back on over her under robe and brushed her hair back over her shoulders, her usually straight locks becoming wavy from being braided for so long and swaying around her chest and shoulders as she hobbled to the door and slid it open. Three people stood in the hall, each carrying something different and all nervously fidgeting about interrupting her. "Yes?" she asked them politely, seeing how one of them-the man with the glasses-paled slightly when he saw her and stepping back to let them in, gesturing slightly.

The only girl among them bowed, her hands carrying a tray of food and a cup of cool water, as she said, "I am Haruka, miss Reiko. I have brought your evening meal."

"My evening meal?" the rogue repeated. "What time is it?"

"Twilight, miss," Haruka replied immediately, shuffling in and laying the tray out in the center of the floor and moving off to the side to sit quietly, leaving the soldiers by themselves.

"Well?" she directed at them, seeing them jump.

"Samo, you go first!" his partner hissed, elbowing him slightly; Katsumi stared at his hair.

Samonosuke shook his head, afraid to speak.

"Quit bein' a pussy!"

"You're closer, Yoshi!"

Katsumi sighed and they both got silent, watching her in case she became angry. "What's going on?" she asked carefully, locking eyes with the nervous, bespectacled man, prompting him to move forward, which he did, shaking like a leaf.

"M-m-m," he stammered, going even paler, "m-miss Re-reiko, your-your things..." Holding his bundle out, Katsumi saw, to some surprise, that he had her armor and weapons, his hands shaking like a branch in the wind. She remembered leaving them in the storage room she'd stayed in before and had planned to go get them later, so it was a pleasant surprise to have them hand delivered for her.

"Oh, thank you," she said, genuinely surprised but pleased, reaching out to take her things when Haruka appeared at her side and plucked them from Samanosuke's grip, bowing and backing away to lay them in the armoir that stood in the corner of the room. "Um... Thank you, Haruka," she added, confused at the girl's behavior. The girl bowed politely, remaining silent.

Yoshinao then elbowed his friend out of the way and grinned, trying to play off how uncomfortable he felt, rubbing his head and keeping one arm tucked behind his back, bowing once and saying, "Sorry about Samanosuke, miss. He's superstitious. Yoshinao here, at your service."

"What else could there be?" Katsumi asked him, fighting back a yawn that rose in her throat.

"Uh," he murmured, bringing his bundle around for her to see. "Big Boss asked me to go into the treasury to get this for you. So you could keep doing what you wanted to do."

It was a cane. Not just any cane, though, she realized, taking it from him and looking it over. It was a beautifully made, darkwood walking stick polished to a glass-like shine and carved at the head to look like a rearing dragon, its claws poised on a crescent moon that rested over a wrapped-leather grip, the height reaching her shoulders easily; a leather binding on the end acted as a stopper so it would stick and not scratch the floor. She was awed at it, her lips parted in deep appreciation for the detail work, thinking that it might spring to life in her hands if it could. upon closer inspection, she discovered at the dragon had its right eye scarred away and the pattern of its mane seemed oddly familiar to her; she smiled, looking down the length of wood and finding an engraving under the grip, her fingers gently tracing the kanji as she whispered, "_Dokuganryu..._"

_The One-Eyed Dragon will swallow the moon_.

_"The One-Eyed Dragon will bite off the head of Imagawa_!"

Katsumi staggered a bit, bumping the sliding door as the voice echoed in her head, horse hooves and cheering soldiers flashing before her eyes. yoshinao's eyes widened and he made a move to touch her, frantically asking, "Are you alright?!" and she just grinned, feeling Haruka at her back trying to lift her from the doorway, waving them both away.

"I'm fine, just a little dizzy," she assured, knowing she was pale from the vision flash. "Please," she went on, holding the cane out to the man, "tell lord Date thank you but I couldn't possibly accept something so beautifully made."

Yoshi grinned sheepishly. "He figured you might try to return it. He said keep it because he's going to be an old man before he ever gets a use out of it. Big Boss knows you're going to keep trying to help all our injured even if your ankle breaks so he said keep it."

Blushing, she bowed her head, deeply flattered by his generosity. "Then tell him thank you even more. He's not walking around, is he?"

"Nope."

"Good. Also," she turned toward Haruka who was still at her back, looking worried in a basic, rehersed way, "tell him thank you for watching out for me, but I lived on my own for seven years and I don't need my own servant. I know you can be useful somewhere else, Haruka." The girl dipped her head, folding her hands together. "I want to keep my independence. But lord Date's bandages will need changing soon, so if you're supposed to help me, can you go ready the neccessary things?"

"Yes, milady," Haruka acknowledged, bowing and leaving the room.

Katsumi, her wit as sharp as ever, glanced supisciously between Yoshinao and Samanosuke, her brow quirking. "What's this 'milady' business?"

"O-oh! Look at the time!" Yoshinao exclaimed, glancing at his wrist and turning away, shoving his friend down the hall. "Better go tell Big Boss your message! Have a good meal!"

"HEY!"

They were gone and she wasn't able to follow them the way she wished she could, so she deicided to figure out what the ranking was all about after she ate. The meal was still warm and consisted of smoked fish, rice of course, picked vegetables and water, the chopsticks cool in her hand as she sprawled out in the least-lady-like fashion imaginable and aly them across her fingers, folding her hands together.

"_Itadakimasu._"

The walking stick took some getting used to, but the short walk from her room to Masamune's was just long enough for her to get the hang of it, her ankle much relieved at not needing to be abused any further. Once at the door to the main bedroom, she knocked and jumped a bit when the door opened immediately to none other than Kojuro who looked just the same as ever. He recognized her stepped aside, greeting her politely before getting a good look at her new crutch, his brows shooting up as he recognized it. Katsumi smiled kindly at him and walked in, spying the troublsome young lord at the window that faced the courtyard, his gaze distance and thoughtful until he heard her kneel on the floor nearby; he tore his gaze away and looked at her, still surprised at how beautiful she looked even when her hair was tied into a messy bun and her posture was off because of the way she held her injured ankle to the side to keep weight off of it.

"Hey," he greeted, picking himself up from the window sill and plopping onto the ground next to her; Kojuro took his position at his back on his right side automatically, "_you doing okay?_"

She grinned, still amused by that. "I should be asking you that." Fresh bandages, water, herbs and a few other things were layed out beside her so she twisted a bit and started mixing the herbs with the water, whisking it as if it were tea. "You aren't supposed to be up and about until I gave you the okay."

"I made certain he stayed in his room," Kojuro chimed in gruffly, studying her and what she did carefully.

"Oh, thank you," she told him, giving him a kind smile and seeing the way he squeezed his eyes shut and blushed slightly.

"So," Masamune went on, rolling his sleeve up and holding his arm out as she soaked the fresh bandages in the medicine, allowing her to untye and removed them, his blood having caked them already. "You enjoy the present I sent?"

"This?" she inquired, reaching to her side where she'd lain the cane, her fingers strroking the dark wood gently. "Yes, very much. Thank you, really, but I don't deserve something so beautifully made."

He shrugged, wincing as the blood-soaked wrappings pulled away from his raw skin, little droplets springing up along the wound. "The ol' wood wittler down in the village gave it to me as a thank-you for protecting Oshu. Kojuro and I both get things like this from time-to-time from villagers and I figured since I don't plan to need it until I'm old and gray like he is, I'd give it to someone who needs it now. 'Sides, you deserve a lot more than some walking stick for saving our butts."

Discarding the bloody wrapping, Katsumi extracted the fresh one and wrung it out, laying it in her lap and grabbing one of the cloths that lay beside her, soaking half of it, gently cleaning the old and new blood from his arm and patting it dry before starting to re-wrap him, keeping the bandage firm but not unbearably tight, her cheeks lighting up yet again. She glanced up and noticed that one of his cheeks appeared red, as if he'd been hit by someone; the ony one she could think of with the balls to do that was Kojuro. "Thank you very much for your kindness, lord Date."

"Not a problem. Sorry if Haruka upset you, too. Just trying to be hospitable."

"No, no! It's not that. I was surprised that you would send someone to me in the first place. I don't mean to be rude to deny her, but having someone doing everything for me just doesn't sit well with me."

"I get it, don't worry."

They watched each other, both grinning slightly as they looked into the reflection of their own eyes until Katakura leaned over and said quietly, "Lord Masamune, we should move on to what we discussed."

"Right, right," he agreed, reaching up to scratch his head and find the words to explain what it is he was about to ask. Katsumi was studying him, waiting quietly as she tied off his wound and lay his arm against his thigh, moving to form a sling with the items provided, which he'd agreed to at a request from Kojuro. "So, uh... listen." Seeing how sharp and clear her eyes were was becoming unnerving. "We owe you a lot. Like I said before. There's something we want to ask you too, but first things first. If there's anything-anything at all-that we can give you, ask away."

Katsumi leaned back, becoming suddenly withdrawn and solemn and Date turned his head to share a quick glance with Kojuro who shook his head a bit; with a confused shrug, he looked back at her only to find a fiercely determined light in her eyes that brought an appreciative grin to his face. _Girl's got heart_, he thought, seeing for the first time that, even when in pain and seated somewhat awkardly, she carried herself like a young noble woman, despite being a rogue from a kimono shop; she must have learned and taught herself elegance as a part of her need to survive and hide, able to flawlessly mimick a woman of noble birth. It suited her much more.

"I remember being told the same from master Katakura," she began, speaking clearly and slowly, trying not to get ahead of herself. "Personally, I do not feel I deserve such praise. But, I am also no fool. I have given it much thought since we first spoke, and there are only two things that I desire, one which is already within your power to grant, the other I can only hope for."

"Shoot," Date murmured, his curiosity getting the better of him.

Carefully, she lowered herself into a respectful bow, trying to keep her balance without the use of her bad leg. "My first wish. I humbly request to join the ranks of the Date army in order to further your victories to come, in what ever way I can."

Both men made surprised sounds, looking to each other once again, not sure if they'd heard correctly; Kojuro suddenly broke out in a wide smile and Masamune started to laugh, laying his hand against his forehead, chuckling, "Well, that answers our question!"

"Indeed it does," Kojuro agreed.

"What?" Katsumi uttered, looking up with blazing cheeks. She assumed he was laughing because it was ridiculous that she asked, but she began to doubt that quickly. "Is something wrong?"

"No," Kojuro answered with a hint of a laugh himself, his balled fists relaxing at last. "It's just that we planned to ask you to become the foundation of a new intelligence force here for the Date, should any of your previous requests not involve you taking your leave of us, which is why we wanted to know what you wanted first."

Smiling slightly, she repeated curiously, "New intelligence force?"

Nodding, the Right Eye explained, "We already have scouts that do their jobs well enough, but we see that it would be more beneficial to have a specialty force, even of just one, that would be something like the ninja corps of the land of Kai. Someone skilled in infiltration, spying, things shinobi in nature. Things you claim to be capable of. Your skill with herbology is also impressive and would become a great asset to us."

"What he's saying," Masamune cut in, rolling his eye and shaking his head a bit, "is consider it granted. Welcome to the Date army."

Joy cut across her face so brightly, her eyes lighting up from within and her skin seeming to glow with such happiness that both men were taken aback until she composed herself, though her cheerful glow stayed. "Thank you... so much."

"Not a problem. So what else was it that you wanted?"

The light in her eyes grew ominiously darker, colder, as if an Oshu winter had settled into her soul, blanketing the warmth she had just shown. Her voice was cool and even, the way she spoke making it seem less like a request and more like a goal, her focus distant. "There is only one thing in this world I truly want in this moment. I have no right to ask this of anyone, I have no idea if it may even be possible, but from what I have seen, you, lord Date, if no one else, would be able to grant this."

Now he was truly interested. He leaned forward, showing that interest.

"I want the head of Oda Nobunaga."


	7. Chapter 6

****Finally! An update! WOO! Sorry it took so damn long, I've been so busy. And as a future note, as with all my fanfictions that follow along with the original canon story line, I always go for accuracy, and so all familiar scenes are written according to the Japanese dub, and all events in this fic are listed chronologically, not in order of appearance, meaning the scene in this chapter originally occurs before the start of the series, but it doesn't appear until the middle fo season 2. Furthermore, many phrases may appear that don't follow the anime, because I have derrived them from the Samurai Heroes manga that was adapted, and this is also seen in this chapter-yes, I am a well-rounded, obsessed fangirl. I own nothing except uncanon storylines and OCs. WHOOP****

Katsumi, after the hiccup with her confession for her desire of Oda's head, managed to avoid being interrogated just barely but redirecting the conversation back towards the concept of the intelligence corps and what it would entail. Much to her surprise, as they had apparently discussed it at length, she would become what would essentially be Date's left hand partner, just below Kojuro's rank, making her a lady of the house of Date and an icon among the soldiers and countryfolk. She would be solely in charge of the doings of the force, such as the name, recruitment and requirements and act as a proxy bodyguard in times when Kojuro wasn't available, much like Kasuga of Echigo and her lord Kenshin, but anything large-scale she would of course have to discuss with her only two surperiors. If required, she would travel where assigned to collect what was needed, but she would also be able to follow rumors and her instincts and travel as she pleased so long as she gave warning of her departure.

There was a lot of freedom entailed, but also an equal amount of responsibility and specifics would have to be taken up later on, as it was too late to do much else for the day. So she took her leave with as many thanks as she could muster and began to explore Yonezawa castle, her new home. It was unsettling how quickly news travelled in an estate, even of the size of Yonezawa, as household servants and even the occasional guard bowed and greeted her as she passed and welcomed her into the household. Katsumi was more accustomed to being chased out of castles than welcomed into them so her nerves were shot by the time she made her way the the training yard, having taken the wrong staircase on her way back to her room.

A full moon floated above the stone walkways, giving them a distinctive silver light that captured her attention and set her chi swirling again. Absently, she meandered out into the cool night, feeling the way her energy tickled that of the objects around her, almost like echolocation; she felt the small lives of the residents of the manor and the stronger life forces of Kojuro and Masamune somewhere within, her body electrifying with their presence. Something inside her seemed to well up, the color blue flashing through her vision momentarily; she staggered, although the feeling was much different from that of a vision, wondering what it could be that made her heart pound and her body tingle.

A memory, also different from a vision, came to mind of both men fighting the Oda and the resistance force, blue energy crackling off their bodies and swords like a blanket around them. She remembered how particularly strong warriors often had elemental qualities imbued in their life forces, known as a _basara_, and only one element was found in one person; both the One-Eyed Dragon and his Right Eye were of the lightning category, so it made her wonder if, being around them for as long as she had been, had possibly woken something inside her? Or perhaps she'd always had this unique trait and never been able to access it, but she knew now that she had the curious ability to sense a warrior's _basara_, whatever good it did for her. It was one of those rather irrelevant things in life, as just about any strong fighter in the world could have a _basara _and other than knowing of possible advantages regarding elemental match-ups, there was little use of such a sense.

She shrugged, pulling her mind back and letting the sense fade. Her grandparents had taught her about the _basara _abilities and how they could affect healing because herbs, like the people, were ruled by a prevailing element and if not careful, the person's own element could counteract the weaker herbs', and vice-versa increase or strengthen those that share an element or pair together well, like lightning and water. It was something she had nearly forgotten, as she had no _basara_ abilities of her own to worry about; that fact never bothered her and she wasn't disappointed by it. It was more of an advantage as she'd never have to worry about an herb not working for her, but it would pay to remember that little detail later on.

Clouds passed in front of the moon and made the yard grow dark for a few minutes as she wandered near the wall that was closest to the outside, pausing when the returning moonlight drew her attention to an archery target mounted on a tree several meters from her, the temptation becoming almost too much for her. Pulling the hidden needles she always carried from within her sleeve and balancing with the cane, she flicked her wrist, aiming for the target as best she could without falling on her butt. Two hit the tree itself and one landed in the white outer circle and she _tsk_ed, scowling at herself.

_This will never do_, she scolded, pulling another set of three out and aiming again, trying to control her grip better so the release would be more accurate. This time, two landed within the outer ring, one right on the border of the blue second band and making her feel a little better. _Practice is all I need on well-defined targets that don't move._ Usually she only carried nine needles in her sleeves at a time when dressed casually, so she released her last array, happy when all three smacked into the target, one near the bullseye by sheer chance, the rest pinning other colors before she switched hands and practiced with her left side, not wanting to become reliant on only one hand to throw accurately; it would be a terrible mistake to do so.

She practiced her throw for over an hour, tossing three sets per hand at the lonesome target before slowly going to retrieve them all, move back into position and start all over again, only slightly pleased to see her progress was moving, as she was still skirting the outer two circles; she stopped because her arms were beginning to ache with the exercise. It was also late and she was growing tired, her long day beginning to catch up with her at last.

"Done already?"

Katsumi stopped, nearly falling over as she rocked against her cane unsteadily when she spied the lone figure sitting under the patio roof with a jug of _sake_ at his side, his right arm hitched around his neck in the splint-and-sling she'd made for him earlier in the evening, his grin apparent in the bright light the moon cast down on the training yard.

"Lord Date," she said quietly, bowing as best she could without falling.

He huffed. "_Don't be so formal._ 'Round here we don't put too much pressure to keep up difference in rank. Just using my first name is fine with me. Besides, you're ranking third now so no one will find it odd."

"Um, alright... lord Masamune..."

He sighed and shook his head. "Close enough."

Katsumi figeted, trying not to stare at the way the moonlight reflected off his face, darkening his hair to sheer blackness and turning his one eye silver-white, the contrast of the night cutting the planes of his face into sharp angles that gave him an even more rugged, masculine look to his youthful face that she found more appealing than she should. "What..." she murmured, wondering if she should sit with him or remain standing-the protocol of being in such a high rank with premissible lack of difference between her and the residing lord was not something she was familiar with and left her blank, "I mean, why are you here this evening? I thought you preferred the stone garden to drink by moonlight."

"Heard that from the staff, did you?"

"Y-yes."

His grin soften and he shifted position, laying his dish on his knee and patting the ground beside him to invite her to sit which she did hesitantly, her body stiff and full of aggitated energy. Young Date was not used to being so entranced with anyone, particularly not a young woman, but he couldn't tear his gaze away from her, his mind mezmorised by the way the moonlight struck her features, giving her the appearance of a perfect, marble statue carved by the hands of a master, her feminine curves becoming angled and mature, her hair inky black and silver and her eyes becoming swallowed by the reflection of the moon that shone there, giving her the appearance of a spirit, beautiful and alien.

"_Relax_," he said gently, taking a sip of his_ sake_. "This dragon doesn't bite unless provoked."

A faint grin graced her lips and he saw it in stereo, every angle of her face either shining in silvery moonshine or cast into deep shadow, making every change of her features obvious. "I'm glad to know that," she told him, her voice as smooth as silk and sweet as honey, ringing gently in his ears like a song.

"As for why I'm here," he went on, glancing away only when he saw her turning toward him, "a guy likes a change of scenery once in a while, _you see?_"

A soft laugh shook her body and she brought a hand to her mouth to cover it, trying to ignore the way his voice vibrated deep within her, making her chest tight with the deep, clear sound, bringing fantasies to her mind that she shouldn't let wander off on their own of hearing him whispering sweetly to her. _Naughty, naughty Katsumi!_ she told herself, glad the night would mask her burning, neon-colored face from him, though wishing it could also make her voice sound less guilty of secrecy. "I do see. Part of the joy of travelling was beging able to see new and different things every day. Monotony becomes tiresome quickly."

"Too true," he agreed, pulling an extra cup from somewhere-probably his sleeve-and offering it to her. "But I don't have the same freedom you do. Travelling becomes more of a burden than a vacation for a lord of a house since there's so much mandatory formality involved. Not to mention lack of privacy."

At first she hesitated to take the dish, as she never really drank-ever-but feeling it might be rude not to, Katsumi took the shallow little bowl and allowed him to fill it with the sweet rice wine before taking another sip of his own, nodding her head in thanks and lifting it to her lips. "Then do you ever have time to appreciate the countryside when you're out on a campaign?"

"_Duh._ Be stupid if I didn't. It's the only time I ever have to actually look around at places outside of Oshu, so if we can manage it, I like to camp in decent places so I can enjoy the scenery before we pass by it."

Katsumi's tongue touched the sake in her dish and and slipped back into her mouth as she tasted the sweet-yet-bitter liquid, determining whether she really like it or not, trying not to make a face. "I didn't take you for a sight-seer, lord Masamune."

"No one ever does," he sighed and she peered over at him curiously, hearing how solemn he sounded. "Lot of other generals seem to think I'm wreckless and one-sided. No one outside knows me better than Kojuro does. They never try to."

Clearly he was not used to divulging so much personal information, and being who and what she was, Katsumi was not accustomed to being so freely offered such delicate knowledge either, but something inside her swelled with warmth to know that he trusted her enough to share something so personal. She wanted to reciprocate the feeling somehow. "I know how that is," she told him quietly, laying the _sake_ dish beside her and hoping he wouldn't ask, as she wasn't fond of the taste in her mouth. "Though my problem is that I never was _able_ to share who I was or what I really liked. Not completely anyway. I was always lying, always hiding myself, even from my clients."

"What kind of clients?"

Normally this question came provoked by the misunderstanding that her "clients" were for a profession that garnered no respect; a profession she had never stooped so low as to take on, and she heard the tone of his voice indication unease that accompanied such thoughts. "I am, or rather was," she quickly amended, looking up at the cloud formations instead of his face, not wanting to see judgement there, "a rogue skilled in many jobs. I moonlighted as a traveling healer for a while, wanting to try and break away from the darker path my life was taking. But I never got to connect to anyone I healed as it's a very formal procedure most times. Sadly, it didn't last and after a year I went back to my old ways, healing or using my stitching here and there to earn a little extra money on occasion, but usually my clients refer to those who hired me for special reasons."

Date's hand twitched slightly as his train of thought ran away with the pressumption of red lights and bare legs in her past, feeling a confusing anger welling up at envisioning Katsumi-young, sweet, honest, strong-hearted Katsumi-having to...

_I don't even want to know_, he said to himself, bringing the thought to a grinding halt.

Katsumi reached over and touched his wrist gently and he jumped, startled by the sudden contact; he couldn't help but look at her and see the way her eyes spoke, telling him he was wrong. Her voice confirmed that feeling as she firmly stated, "I have never and will never resort to such low, humiliating means to get by in my life."

"_Damn straight_ you won't," he growled, feeling her fingers close around his wrist gently. "You're a part of the Date now, and I look out for my own."

Katsumi smiled at him, her lips parted from her little shock at his words, feeling once again the reason why he was so loved and honored by his men; she'd never met anyone like him before. "Thank you."

"Quit thanking me for everything," he told her, laying his _sake_ on the patio and placing his arm in his lap, feeling her warm skin against his hand and wanting to keep it there as long as he could. "It's something I do, no sense in thanking me every time it happens."

"No," she giggled softly, "I suppose not, but I still appreciate it greatly."

Turning his hand over, he folded his fingers down and touched hers gently, feeling how soft and delicate they were under his rough, battle-toughened fingertips and finding it difficult to believe they carried seven years'-worth of hardship and conflict. His heart ached to think that this beautiful young woman was forced into such a life at so young an age instead of being able to grow up and live a life more suited to a young beauty, like becoming the wife of a noble or middle-class merchant instead of slaving away in a kimono shop or fighting for her life every day on her own. Her soft gasp alerted him that she would pull away after realizing their too-intimate-for-our-relationship contact, but he squeezed her forefinger against his thumb to hold her there, gazing deep into her eyes to show her he understood what it was like to live isolated for years at a time.

Almost without prompt, her attention robbed by his deep, bared emotion put so blatantly on display in his gaze, she explained in such a soft whisper, he almost couldn't understand her. "I..."-she swallowed and he watched the way her throat worked for just a second, but it was a second long enough for her to notice and to feel her heart ache in response to the acute awareness he had for her-"I... have... particular skills... as you know... so while I have killed in protection of myself and sometimes others, I also have a bit of a reputation... especially in the capital... I was the Moon Shadow of Owari and I was often hired to... to..."

_I can't_.

She didn't want to tell him how she made her living for so many years in the very realm of the man she despised above all others. Squeezing her eyes shut, she twisted away, tugging her hand from his and feeling shame wash over her for the first time in her life regarding her self-imposed occupation born of her sole desire to one day target Oda Nobunaga himself.

But Masamune already knew and he lay his hand on her shoulder carefully, vaugely aware that that was her injured one, and tried getting her to face him again, his voice gentle as he surmised, "You killed people." She flinched. "It's not so different from what you did for us and you're going to get paid for it too, so what's the problem?"

"It's not the same!" she hissed, wrapping her arms around herself as if doing so would hold her together physically. "Now I have a purpose to do so! Something that could be seen as honorable! But not then. I picked and chose my assignments, but I killed solely for money with no regard to if they had family, if they were old or young... I didn't kill them if they were good people-I always investigated a request before deciding-but once I took a contract, I always came through. I steeled myself against taking the lives of common people because I knew that I may have to do it for myself one day.

"When I left that behind I pushed all thoughts away and went on my travels, stealing from those who had too much when I had nothing, helping those who needed it because I can't turn a blind eye from those in need... I never regretted... Until now..."

Date really hated seeing women cry. Well, he hated crying in general, but especially from women, as he honestly hadn't a goddamn clue what to do about it, as the female folk didn't take well to things like "Suck it up" and "Crying won't solve anything" as he'd learned the hard way many times. "Why now?"

She hiccuped. She couldn't say it was because of him, that would make no sense, but she couldn't get around this question either. "It's because now I realize the difference and I feel ashamed to have stooped so low as a human being..."

"Hey," he chided gently, reaching around to squeeze her good shoulder gently. "We all do things we regret, and we all have had to do things to survive. A lot of the time they're the same thing. But getting upset over it won't magically make things better for you. That's life, Katsumi. The best you can do is forgive yourself and move on."

"I know... I know I do but I just... never really thought about what I was doing until now..."

"_Don't worry._ You did it to live. If the end of the means is something like that, then unjust actions become just. That's how it is these days."

"Yes..."

Footsteps on wood drew his attention and he leaned away from Katsumi just as his dear friend rounded the corner and stopped, taking a quick assessment of the situation.

"Just having a drink," Date cut in, lifting his _sake_ dish up and throwing back the contents.

Katsumi sniffed quietly and nodded, drinking her own cup in show and bearing the taste and the burn, not wanting Kojuro to see her tears.

"Lord Masamune," the older man said slowly and roughly, obviously not pleased at what he found. "Have you made yet another woman cry with your callous tongue?"

"Hey, it's not like I meant to!"

"Please!" Katsumi said loudly, rising up to kneel between the two men. "Master Katakura, lord Masamune and I were only having a discussion and it dredged up some... _painful_ thoughts. It wasn't him."

Kojuro grimmaced. "Either way, lord Masamune, you should be taking to your bed and not catching a chill out here. Getting wounded was already a horrendous affair. Catching cold on top of that would just be shameful."

"Yeah, yeah," the young lord huffed, closing his eye irritably. "I hear ya."

"Lady Katsumi, you should stay off your feet as much as possible."

Hearing the title before her name just made the poor girl uncomfortable all over again and, taking an earlier cue from Date himself, she replied, "I know. And just Katsumi is fine. I'm not used to nor like being called 'lady', it doesn't seem right."

Quirking his brow but knowing it had something to do with his lordship, he amended, "Katsumi, then. To reciprocate the feeling, using my first name is alright with me as well."

"Just your first or master Kojuro?"

He blanched at the odd way of hearing his name and rank put together. "Just Kojuro is fine. After all, we are the three highest ranks and showing difference makes little between us."

"I see. So... goodnight then?"

"Yes, goodnight, Katsumi."

"Night."

As she rose, Date leaned over and said subtly, trying not to make it obvious as he stood with her, "Ever want to talk, just let me know. I think I can't understand pretty well where you're coming from."

Stop blushing you ninny!

"Thanks," she whispered back with barely a movement of her lips, bowing slightly to them before trying to make her way back to her room, but she turned when she heard her name called.

Masamune was pointing the opposite direction she was heading, his grin mockingly humored. "Other way."

Eyes wide with embarrassment, she bowed again, trying to hide her face and heard him laugh to himself before he and Kojuro both disappeared through another door.

_My life has just gotten very, very interesting._

Morning came with a swift knock and a stiff ankle, a hiss of pain shooting up young Katsumi's throat as she stood up to answer the door, her leg throbbing with numb needles so much so she almost toppled over; she reached for the dragon cane she'd propped against the wall beside her bed and hobbled her way across the room, trying not to use her foot at all and looking very awkward about it, hopping over the floor like she was. "Damn, damn, damn," she grunted, cursing herself for being so careless the day before. She opened the door to Haruka, of course, who took one look and knew immediately what was wrong.

"Milady," she said quickly, running the tray of breakfast in and setting it in the middle of the floor like yesterday and then running back to help the woman so she wouldn't collapse, "would you like me to bring you hot water and rags to ease your sprain?"

"Yes," Katsumi sighed in ragged relief, "yes, please..." Allowing herself to be guided to her food, she sat down, said her thanks and began to eat as she waited, pleased beyond relief when the girl returned with a bowl and a kitchen rag soaked in the hot water. Having finished eating, she waved Haruka away with the tray and went about wrapping her ankle in heat and relaxing, stretching her leg out in front of herself and massaging down its length, hitching the hem of her sleepwear around her hip, her good leg folded under her so she could sit comfortably.

Delicately, so she wouldn't aggrivate her sprain, she started kneading the red, swollen area, her body stretched out in a demi-split, one sleeve falling off her shoulder, exposing the gauze that needed to be changed as well as her milky back, her body humming with satisfaction at being pulled; she always enjoyed a good stretch and prided herself on her flexibility-if only she could apply it in battle as well as in hiding. Eventually the ache began to die away, but she had to rewrap her ankle tighter to restrict movement even more, wincing and biting her lip against the pain.

She was still stretched out when there was a knock on her door once again, and then without warning, it slid open, a voice saying, "Katsumi, I heard that your ankle is stiff. Is there anything..."

"Kojuro," she stated, a little confused when she saw the shade of red his face turned before he turned his head and sheilded his eyes, becoming extemely distrought.

"My apologies! I didn't realize...!"

For reasons she was not entirely certain of herself, Katsumi was fazed by being seen underdressed and that dulled instinct is what made her slow to respond, as her back was to the door and most of her covered still, but she quickly realized that even a bare leg and shoulder was too much for a man like Kojuro and she yelped, tugging her hems down and up to cover herself, suddenly realizing Kojuro had just seen what would be considered "intimate" parts of her for absolutely no reason. "God! I completely forgot!"

"I will leave you to straighten yourself out! Please come to lord Masamune's room as soon as you can to check his wound!"

He was gone in a hurry and for that she was thankful. "Can I not have a normal moment around him or what?" she asked the heavens while getting up and limping over to the wardrobe to look for a _kimono-_-many of which had been provided in the room, almost as if her stay had been planned-and chose one of teal with green leaves and yellow, grassy patterns on it, liking the cheerful feeling it gave off. After dressing, she grabbed her beautiful walking stick and started the short but trying trip to Date's room, vaugely remembering their talk the night before, realizing with a start that it wasn't a dream she'd had.

_He's so much more complicated than I thought... wreckless yes, but not only..._

Fog clouded her eyes and she stopped, recognizing the onset of the vision before it hit her, thankful it was one of those slow-to-come incidents that gave her a chance to hold still as it hit her, sending her senses spinning.

_A warrior in crimson atop a horse, weilding twin spears, rode into the clearing, his long hair flying behind him, a small battalion bearing the Takeda four-diamond crested banners of Kai hot on his heels. He halted..._

Shaking her head, Katsumi swayed against the wall, pressing the heel of her hand against her forhead to clear her vision. _It's never been that long before. Or clear,_ she thought worriedly, biting her cheek. _Why do I have these visions anyway?_ It was a question she asked herself often, though she never had an answer that made sense; she felt it had to do with the past she didn't remember and as a child she often mused about being a lost priestess or a fairy or something else virtually impossible yet satisfactory to her childish mind. As of late, she'd been giving it more serious thought but drew up nothing except the darkness, the lights and the figures she felt might be her real parents.

_I guess a better question would be what the hell is Takeda up to? Maybe I should make that my first priority once my stupid ankle heals._

She liked the idea of being able to do something more useful than play doctor all day, and thought kindly as she started walking again that maybe the very thing that plagued her childhood would be what helps avoid a catastrophe here and now. If they were even visions of the future to begin with. Maybe she just hallucinated or remembered her blank past, but unless she got to know for certain what the visions meant, being cautious and covering her bases would be a good idea.

But for now, playing doctor was all she _could_ do.

"The bleeding has finally stopped. But if you stress it out, it _will_ reopen and the healing process will start all over again."

Masamune groaned quietly, huffing and ruffling his bangs with his breath as Katsumi rewrapped his arm yet again, hating that his arm was so useless. Keeping still made him uncomfortable and he would lose training time because Katsumi would probably annihilate him if he tried while his wound was still open.

He peered around, waiting and wishing Kojuro had stuck around longer. For some reason his second-in-command had vacated the premises shortly after Katsumi gave the okay, looking to be in a decisive hurry and didn't even say why, her presence making him even more fidgety while she went red and kept her back to him the entire time; they said nothing, they didn't look at each other and actually seemed to be trying to avoid all contact with each other. Of course he was curious about this and, not knowing how to temper his tongue most days, once she finished wrapping him and helped tie his sling back into place, he voiced that curiosity. "So," he drawled, watching her pack her things away, "what's up with you and Kojuro? Get into a fight again?"

Judging by how her face lit up like a paper lantern, he figured he'd guessed correctly-sort of.

"N-no, sir," she replied, turning away from him and hunching over a bit.

"Then what's up?"

"It's just... um..."

"If you don't wanna say then don't, just don't lie to me."

She nodded, sighing with relief and setting her pack aside. "We had a... misunderstanding... that's all..."

Shrugging, he grunted and leaned his head against the wall behind him, trying not to give in to his utter boredom. Again.

Katsumi rose carefully and took her cane from the wall and took her weight off her ankle immediately, turning back to face him and slinging her pack over her shoulder. "You're dying of boredom, aren't you?"

"Yeup."

She debated. Knowing him, he'd probably try to take advantage of a loose leash, but as he seemed to be much like herself, being confined to one space constantly would be murderous to his mental health. If he'd consent to being tailed, it might be okay, but she was not supposed to be walking around more than she had to-but obviously he'd sneak out later on anyway, which she'd learned by hearing the two commanders bickering over his late-night stroll just yesterday when he was supposed to be resting.

Katsumi hated seeing people miserable, and Masamune certainly looked miserable sitting there in his bed, about ready to start beating his head against the wall. She uttered a soft, "Um..." and he looked at her again, his face passively detached and she pursed her lips. "Your wound is healing up well. It would do you all some good if you went to show the men you're doing alright. Walk around, get some fresh air."

His gaze lit up immediately and he grinned contagiously, saying, "You had me at 'um'." Wasting no time, he stood up and crossed the room to his clothes chest, so Katsumi took that hint and exited, telling him that she would be heading to the store room to take a look at their stock of herbs and would be back soon and not to do anything he would regret if he got caught.

"_No problem_," he called to her, waiting until her hobbled steps faded away. Once he was certain she wouldn't be coming back, he suited up, knowing the best way to show he was still fighting was to display himself like a peacock, but smartly leaving his right arm bare of plating and reslinging it in record time. _It already takes almost ten minutes to reach the storage area from here. At her pace, it will take even longer, then the trip back and time in between. Not to mention her getting lost. A little jaunt around the barracks won't hurt._

Or so he thought.

Date Masamune entered a mysteriously-opened room after receiving a summons by word-of-mouth, his face voiding of all feeling when he found Kojuro awaiting him, dressed casually but with a _wakizashi_ laying on the floor before him, his Right Eye's manner as closed off as his own. Not even a second afterward, with word continuing to spread after the message had been delivered-his men had no definition for the words 'secret' or 'subtle'-they converged on the room just behind him, calling Kojuro's name questioningly. The young lord clenched his good fist at his side, meeting his friend's set gaze and biting out calmly, "What's the meaning of this, Kojuro?"

"I," the older man replied, becoming more withdrawn but grimly determined as all eyes shot to the small blade for a second, "Kojuro, must commit suicide."

Date grunted, "Eh?" while trying to repress his shock.

Koujro closed his eyes, lowering his head slightly. "At this battle of Hitotoribashi we may have secured victory for ourselves, but even though I swore to protect your back," he opened his eyes fiercely, glaring at the bandaged and still-slowly-bleeding wound for a moment before closing them again, "I allowed you to suffer a grievous wound."

"It's just a scratch," Masamune murmured quietly, even though he himself didn't really buy it anymore, and so Kojuro, ever the critical one, wouldn't either.

"No, my lord. With the slightest deviation," he glanced up and met his lord's single, icy eye, "it is a sword wound that could of robbed you not only of the use of your swords, but of your life!" Then, in front of the shocked mass of men, he reached down and lifted the _wakizashi_ from the floor and began to unsheath it, tuning out the startled gasps around him and feeling the disdain that slowly peeled off of the young lord before him, knowing it was his duty to die for his mistakes. "Further more, eight of our men were injured before battle, and of those eight, two suffered broken legs and have not regained the ability to walk as of yet. Though we had no way of knowing our enemies possessed alliegence with _shinobi_, they did not recieve those wounds in battle and therefore they will not be scars of honor! Our men suffered pointless injuries because they were loyal enough to follow along with another one of your frivolous whims. I hope you will not allow something so dishonorable to happen again. You are the leige lord of this dominion, and as such you carry upon your shoulders the weight of every citizen's life, as well as their honor. This responsibility is your very life. I beg you my lord," his hand quaked with supressed emotion, "guard your life more vigilantly. That is the simple wish of your humble servant." Kojuro took a deep, steadying breath. "Having said that, talking back to and raising one's hand against one's master is an unforgivable offense. I, Katakura Kojuro, offer my life in atonement. I realize this is highly irregular," he still went on, drawing the small, gleaming blade out at full draw, "but I will die now to pay for my mistakes."

"Wait, master Katakura!" Yoshinao blurted, at a loss.

Samonosuke picked up from him and went on, stammering, "You can't do this!"

"H-h-h-h-hold on!" Magobei piped up, waving his hands around.

But none of them could do anything.

Effectively shut down with his good mood miles away, Masamune reached over with his good arm and took hold of his center blade, musing, "_Alright._ I'll be your second," and sweeping the beautiful, master-crafted _katana_ in a wide arc as everyone chorused, "WHAAAAAT?!"

"Wait, Hito!"

But the two men ignored the protests, Kojuro solemnly drawing his shirt open for a clean, unrelenting cut, Date stepping closer for a clear slice while the onlookers lasped into respectful, submissive silence, knowing their pleas would go unanswered, as it was the way of the _samurai_ to die to atone for their acts of treason and dishonor. Raising his blade, the young, wounded lord waited; the Right Eye took a shakey breath and twisted the sword in his hands around to plunge it through the hard muscles of his stomach.

Metal flashed. Men swallowed. The _wakizashi_ cleanly pierced...

... the wooden beam above their heads.

Kojuro didn't move, Date's repressed rage swirling about him like a thunderhead, thick and oppressive. The _katana _lifted and sliced through the sling keeping his lame arm from swinging about, fluttering to the ground with only the softest of whispers before being pinned into the _tatami_ by the sword, his now-free left hand shooting out and grabbing the waiting second by his shirtfront and yanking him up; Kojuro didn't fight it. Hauling back with his cut up apendage, Date let fly an unrelenting, angry face shot that sent Kojuro careening into the rear wall, which collapsed under the combined weight and force; almost instantly, young Masamune went spastic with the blistering pain that he had to choke off, his throat making horrid, suffocated noises as the wound split wide open, one hand gripping the it to try and seal off the blood and pain, his body hunched, falling to his knees.

"Number One!" his men cried, devastated. Samanosuke even made the mistake of pointing out the obvious while crushing his face between his palms: "W-with his injured right hand!"

"And he was gouged to the bone, too!"

"Th-that's crazy!"

"Quit," the young lord growled, watching his companion sit up, seemingly unfazed, "treating me like a brat forever. You're my Right Eye. If I ever lose my right arm, don't waste time slashing open your stomach. You become my right arm, too!" He rose and turned, regaining some of his composure. "As you can see, not a single blade touched my back. On top of which," he grabbed his Six Claws and unsheathed them, displaying his intact ability to fight, even though it wasn't how he originally planned, "I can still wield these six swords tomorrow and beyond, the same as ever. It means there's not problem here. Isn't that right?" He pointed the Claws at his second non-threateningly before lowering his arms, the pain making it difficult to keep up-not that he would show it if he could help it.

"Lord Masamune," Koujro started affectionately.

A shrill voice shrieked, "DATE MASAMUNE!"

The moment: it's effectively broken.

The blood curdling screech made everyone pale visibly and turn toward the left side of the doorway where, lo and behold, a red-faced, leaning, livid, shaking Katsumi stood, her eyes closed but her face reading: "You're in deep shit now." Everyone scrambled away as she uncermoniously tossed her cane aside-someone caught it so it wouldn't hit the floor-ignoring her throbbing, protesting ankle as she went at a limping march, her body twitching as she forced her leg to stay straight, her fury driving her newfound strength.

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?"

"Katsu-" the lord squeaked, realizing he was definitely in some kind of trouble now and unable to do anything, as he tried to refrain from hitting women when he could avoid it.

With a flick of her wrist, the wily rouge had him by the ear, hauling from his feet and turning toward the exit, glaring her way through the crowd that waited there; they parted like the Red Sea, too terrified to get in the way. She marched, dragging the abashed and embarrassed young man behind her, her height and tug keeping him scrambling to not lose his footing, sounds of aggrivated pain croaking from his throat as she scolded him, single-mindedly heading back towards his bedroom.

"HONESTLY!" she bellowed as they crossed the patio. "I leave for _ten minutes _and you go and do something stupid,_ exactly _what I told you _not _to do! This is why I don't let my patients wander around unsupervised! Well, I'm not making _that_ mistake again, oh no! You aren't leaving your room without an escort, that's for damn sure! Walking around in full armor, punching people with your injured arm?! Do you _want_ your wound to heal or not? I could cut your arm off, solve the problem in a heart beat, but that would be impractical! For God's sake, Date, show a little thought in your actions, unless you_ like _being a cripple?"

Eventually, her voice faded away, still bickering, but everyone remained frozen a while longer, until Kojuro broke the ensuing silence with, "If she were anyone else... she could be executed for that..."

"Who's going to tell her that?" Yoshinao wondered, quivering.

"Not me, man," Samanosuke squeaked, pale as a marble statue. "I value my balls right where they are."

Summarizing, their rolly-polly friend added, "She's scary," and everyone nodded once simultaneously.

Even Kojuro relented to that idea, a sudden thought striking him as he rose and adjusted his shirtfront. "Did anyone else," he started hesitantly, "think she was like the late Lady Date... for a moment?"

Everyone nodded.

Masamune scowled, one hand propped up on his knee, supporting his jutting chin as Katsumi unwound, cleaned and adjusted his stitches, fighting him to keep him still; she wasn't being gentle anymore. "Quit it!" he shouted, triyng to rip his arm away, but her grip was stronger than he'd given her credit for and his flailing only served to piss her off more.

"Hold still, dammit!" she retorted, pinning his arm to the bed and glaring right at him. "The more you fight me, the long it'll take and the more painful I'll make it!"

"You threatening me?"

"It's not a threat," she growled, hitting him in the shoulder, "it's a promise. Besides, you don't scare me."

"Oh, I don't?" he rumbled, yanking away at last and turning away from her. "That's only because we need you. Don't forget that."

Fed up, Katsumi stood and tossed the damp, dirty rag at his head, making him turn back around, glaring in confusion. That's when she pushed him down into his bed, using her weight to her advantage and surprising the young lord who gazed into her blue orbs and saw less anger and more frustrated irritation, her hair falling around her face like a dark, inky halo, her braid laying up and over her shoulder and dangling down her side, her hands planted firmly in the hollows of his shoulders, preventing him from finding the appropriate leverage to hake her off. "You're so damn reckless," she hissed at him, meeting his eyes evenly and seeing his wall of aggrivation evaporating away like a hotspring. "Didn't master Katakura just reprimand you for doing things like this? I know you had a point to make but you should've waited! What are you going to do if you _do_ lose your arm? Do you think this behavior reflects well on the house of Date? Throwing your weight around and behaving like a troubled child-is that how you want people to see you? Do you want to continue being the fearsome One-Eyed Dragon whose Six Claws instill fear in his enemies? Or would you rather known as the One-Eyed Dragon, crippled by his own reckless stupidity?"

He ground his teeth together, knowing she had a point.

Seeing this, Katsumi sighed and leaned off of him, sitting at the very edge of his bed, her gaze becoming distant. "My grandparents had been summoned to treat a minor lord's idiot son when he fell of his horse during a training exercise. His father was ill with an incurable, age-related disease, and he was the only one left to carry on his house. Grandfather put him on a strict diet and therapy program so he could walk again and not aggrivate his broken leg. Of course, he was an arrogant prick and after a few days stopped his schedule. He fell ill and died within a month, shortly after his father, and his section of the province lost all respect for his family because of his idiocy. I don't want that to repeat itself. Please,"-Katsumi's touch became more gentle as she began to rewrap his arm-"be more careful. I implore you, not as a subordinate or even for the sake of your men, but as someone who hopes you'll see as a friend someday. Stop acting like a fool."

Speechless at her brutal honesty, he lapsed into thoughtful silence, watching her, studying the quiet distance on her face, thinking her words over and knowing she was right, of course. Sighing and flinching when she gave a taught tug, he went to apologize to her for his behavior when his door slide open to Kojuro, who'd changed, and paused. "What's going on?"

Katsumi stood, balancing on one foot and folding her hands in front of her, facing him. "Just a follow-up to the little fiasco earlier. I'm done."

Watching her, he extended his arm, holding out the dragon cane she'd abandoned in her anger and she hobbled over and took it, relieved to have it back. She told him thank-you and passed him when he stepped aside, heading back to her room.

Kojuro looked over at his lord, scowling. "Sir," he started, hoping to shed the remaining irritation from earlier, "you should be more careful about being alone with her."

Date sighed, laying his arm over his face. "Enough scolding for one day, Christ! What's your problem with her, Kojuro? She's only been helping."

"Call it an old habit," he replied, ignoring the younger man's mood, "but my trust is still wavering. It's too soon for me to feel comfortable knowing you two are alone together."

"Look, I'm glad you're watching out for me, but _give it a break_. You're paranoid."

He grunted, holding in his retort. "Forgive me, lord Masamune, but I implore you to be more careful."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Sorry. I'm still reeling from having my ear yanked around."

Kojuro hid a grin behind his hand. "She has spirit, I admit. I am only ensuring your safety."

"I know, Kojuro," the boy lord sighed, peeking out from under his arm. "Thanks for giving a damn."

Bowing, the Right Eye grinned slightly bigger and said, "My honor, my lord. I will go see about the noon meal. Rest well."

"Trying."


	8. Chapter 7

After the _seppuku _incident, the next few weeks passed by with little to be excited about. Masamune's arm healed up into a thin scar quickly thanks to Katsumi's genius herbal skills, and her ankle soon followed suit, being behind schedule due to her constant running amok while trying to ensure her new lord didn't do anything else that could be labelled as "reckless endangerment" on his part. With their ability to walk and move about freely restored, the pair had a grand time of getting back into their original schedules-schedules that incidently kept them apart for long amounts of time, as lord-related work had piled up and kept the young man occupied during daylight hours when Katusmi was drilling herself hard in the training yard, only to find out she was gone on some kind of recon in the evenings when he had free time.

Even so, they bumped into each other on occasion-sometimes literally-and he wasted no moment in speaking to her; he'd grown fond of her voice and missed it almost as much as he missed having her around as often as she had been. Right now happened to be such a time.

Having a mind that tended to run on only one track at a time, when and if Masamune managed to get distracted from his pile of deeds and liscences, he followed up his mental wanderings with physical ones, abandoninging his work and having a stroll to work off his restlessness while taking the most round-a-bout ways possible to avoid an unwanted encounter with his Right Eye, who was certain to scold him if he got the chance. Just this moment he happened to be in the juncture of the estate, the place where each connected hallway led to a different area of the manor; behind him led to the formal rooms where company was recieved and the gardens for just such occasions, ahead were the guest rooms, to the right was a stretch of panelled walls that took him to the family living quarters where he, Kojuro and Katsumi resided, and to the left lay the working areas and the path that led to the barracks which wrapped around and made most of the outer wall of Yonezawa castle. He had no particular place in mind, so he just kept walking, his focus turned inward at his swirling thoughts, completely unaware of those around him.

Usually he didn't have a lapse in judgement like this, but having spent so much time cooped up inside in recent weeks with little to do, he'd had to retrain himself to pay better attention, as being in his room required almost no heightened awareness on his part. Kojuro might bed to differ, but that wasn't his problem. So saying, he shouldn't have been too shocked when he stepped into the intersection and collided with someone who happened to be heading along the perpendicular path at a faster speed than was actually necessary.

Being the larger and sturdier of the two, he _oof_ed and shook his head to clear his thoughts, mostly unfazed by the encounter; the second party wasn't so lucky. Katsumi had sprawled out across the floor, decked flat, in her mismatched, black armor, her hip and shoulder throbbing slightly from where they'd collided with the polished wood, her hair frizzed and sticking out in places and her face flushed with her running. Upon realizing who it was he'd inadvertedly laid out across the floor, he knelt and held his hand out, trying to repress a surge of happiness that welled up when he saw her, mustering a quick apology as she got her bearings back and looked up at him along the length of his healed arm.

She smiled when she recognized him, joy more than evident as she took his offered hand and felt herself being yanked up effortlessly once again and almost being pulled right to him; she rocked onto her toes to expel the excess momentum, as he seemed to have forgotten how light she was, even when plated up. "Lord Masamune," she said happily, her smile contagious on his lips, "it's good to see you."

"And you," he replied, noting how she panted slightly and forgetting how long he'd had her hand in his. "What're you doing? You look tired."

"Oh," she giggled, reaching up to fix her hair nervously, knowing it was a terrible mess. "Just exercising. With my ankle and shoulder all patched up, I'm able to freely explore the castle. I've been memorizing the layout and right now I'm timing how long it takes me to get from one place to the next. My cardio has gotten pretty bad because I was laid up with my sprain."

Masamune continued to gaze at her thoughtfully, genty squeezing her hand without meaning to, a smile playing on his lips until she realized he still had hold of her and she blushed, slipping her hand from his; he covered the potential silence with, "Your aim getting any better?" to keep the ball rolling.

Still fidgeting with her hair, Katsumi replied, "Yes and no. I'm averaging the center of the target now but I've plateaued."

"You'll have to show me, sometime. Maybe I can help."

"That's-no, I mean-you don't have to, lord Masamune," she stuttered, flinging her arms behind her back and bowing her head, embarrassed and flattered by the offer. "You're busy enough with your duties and I don't want to glean ill favor by taking you away from them."

Date rolled his one eye and sighed, knowing immediately what she was getting at. "Kojuro still got you on ice?"

She bit her lip. His ability to read people was uncanny sometimes, but it was a given that she wasn't making it terribly difficult for him to do, since keeping a straight face around him was nearly impossible-he could make her smile, even when she was having a bad day, and though she didn't know it, she had the same effect on him, her quiet presence a kind and soothing balm on his already-stretched nerves. "Yes. I fear he'll never trust me."

Shrugging nonchalantly, Masamune murmured, "Give him a little more time," and laid his hand on her shoulder, giving her a playful shake, and she laughed quietly, not wanting to ruin the mood with her sour thoughts.

One of the little fly-aways on her loose locks curled up out of the tight twist in front of her ear and caught on his thumb; Masamune pinched it between thumb and forefinger and gave it a thoughtful twirl before stroking it back into place, his fingers running absently through her long, silky, inky locks, putting it back in its place, his thoughts admiring how soft and luxurious it felt.

Color washed over Katsumi's cheeks and she froze, her heart tapping out a broken rhythm in her chest. She couldn't remember the last time someone had touched her so tenderly-though certainly not for many years-and it warmed her spirit, knowing here was a man that not only trusted her, but also treated her like a person, not a tool; a woman, not a walking opportunity. And yet, it was bittersweet, as there was no way it could mean anything too significant. He was a lord, he could have his pick from any number of more suitable young maidens, so why would he focus on her? A rouge with nothing to offer him?

Katsumi was shocked that she would be thinking this way at all. This was her employer! Feelings of yearning had no place in business. This had never been an issue before.

"Katsumi," Masmaune's deep voice murmured, cutting through her haze of confused thoughts and bringing her back to the present.

"Y-yes?" she mewed, her whole face turning cherry blossom pink as he dropped his hand but continued to look at her with a deep gentleness that and somehow shattered her inner wall that created the line between personal feelings and business; yes, that had to be why. He was the first one to look at her like she was someone, not something.

"I was wondering," he said, looking away from her for a moment, as if he didn't know how to say what he wanted to, "since I'm almost done with catch-up, and we haven't had a chance to properly talk to each other for a while, if tonight you'd like to meet me at the stone garden for some _sake_?"

Katsumi was speechless. She went into autopilot as she tried to process this odd, out-of-the-blue request, her mind wandering off unsupervised; bowing, she told him hesitantly, "I would... be honored... lord Masamune..." and his brow furrowed.

"_You okay?_ You're acting strange."

When she staightened he saw clearly how red she was and it made him grin a bit. "Just a little surprised."

"More like a lot, I'd say."

She nodded, squeezing her hands together in front of her, her voice becoming airy and dreamy as she turned. "At sundown?"

"Yup. If that works for you."

She nodded again. "I'll finish my exercises now. I'm also heading into town for a bit. I'll return by then. Thank you."

Grunting, he waited as she started walking down the adjacent hallway in a daze, nearly running into a maid carrying clean linens and swaying slightly as she went, clearly not paying any attention anymore. _She's so odd_, he thought to himself, amused and smiling despite himself, thinking about what he was going to do now that she'd agreed to sit with him; Date Masamune was not known for planning ahead or for having a knack for strategy.

Of course, thinking would have to wait, as he'd been caught.

"Lord Masamune, have you completed your work already?"

Masamune twitched, looking over his shoulder into the hallway where Katsumi had first come from, and seeing Kojuro, naturally. The man had a knack for sniffing him out.

"Kojuro," the younger man acknowledged, hoping to play off his efforts at ditching work, "_what's up?_"

"You are," the second retorted, seeing through him in a heartbeat. "You've skipped work again, haven't you?"

"Just a little break."

"An hour isn't a little break, sir."

"To me it is."

Kojuro sighed.

Katsumi stood in the training area, feet apart, eyes closed, surrounded by targets all at varying distances, her breathing deep and even as she concentrated, reaching down to her thigh straps and curling her fingers around the _senbon_ she kept there, lifting them free and testing her grip. She'd been experimenting with arming various parts of her body with hidden assortments of breakable vials, needles, knives and smoke bombs, testing the efficiency of having them in reachable areas and minimizing her chances of getting her pouch caught on various things, hoping to find an improvement in her faulty offensive capabilities. Exhaling, she opened her sapphire orbs and unleashed a torrent of instinctively tossed weaponry, twisting about and hoping to strike with more precision than usual. By chance, she'd realized that being able to aim without sighting not only helped break her plateau, but also double her chances of striking an inner ring and hone her senses in order to minimize her need to waste precious time aiming.

Still, she had a lot of work ahead of her, seen when a third of her shots went wild and missed the targets completely. "Damn," she cursed, snapping her fingers in frustration. "I thought I had it that time."

"You're too stiff."

Whirling, Katsumi gasped sharply when she saw Kojuro leaning on a pillar just outside the circle of targets, only relaxing when she recognized him. _Note to self_, she thought, pouting at him, _work on sensory abilities._ "You startled me," she called to him, folding her arms in front of her chest.

"My apologies," he said plainly, rocking away from his perch and striding over to her and stopping at her side, looking down at her with no particular expression whatsoever. "I've noticed over the weeks your skills have levelled out. Don't hold it against yourself, it happens, so I came to offer advice."

Her brows shot up, a delicate arch over each thickly-lashed eye. "You? Extending help to me?" she mused, seeing his scowl deepen. "I must have been behaving well."

Glaring, he held his arm out to his side and went on, brushing off her sarcasm-which he admitted he deserved after being callouse and cold to her over the weeks. "You hold yourself stiff, which is the natural way most lesser warriors react when their guard is up. You I cannot blame, as you admit to prefering to hide than to willingly engage in combat." She rolled her eyes, also lifting her arm when he motioned for her to.

Kojuro reached out and gripped her wrist, which surprised her since it brought them closer together than they usually prefered, but he wasn't looking at her so he didn't notice her cheeks flame up. Katsumi was beginning to find it aggrivating how easily it was for her to blush these days when it was almost impossible before unless she made herself for a job; now it seemed a blush had become a permanent part of her look and it wasn't amusing anymore. Seven years and _now_ she gets put with the only two men in the entire country who can light her up, just when she was beginning to think she'd lost her ability to blush reflexively. She supposed that was a blessing, as she was beginning to feel more and more like her old self, being able to laugh and smile and enjoy life rather than always shutting down, always being cold, always separating herself from those around her... Life before the Date seemed gray and isolated now more so than ever.

Unaware of her inner monologuing, the Right Eye rested his other hand between her shoulders and gave her a nudge to straighten her spine into proper posture, lining up her arm and the farthest right-hand target. "Straighten your elbow," he ordered and she complied quickly, not knowing what else to do when he was so _damn_ close now. "Now relax your muscles. You have to fight your body's instinct to tighten up until it happens naturally. Being stiff makes movement shakey and awkward. If you relax your muscles, you'll move more freely and react milliseconds quicker, which can make all the difference. And this should be the stance you take when you throw; it maximizes your range and minimizes faulty aim. Understand?"

She understood. But his warm hand on her shoulder and that fact he'd leaned over to line up his sight along her arm had put his face right beside hers were both very distracting factors; after admitting he was handsome man, poor Katsumi had found it impossible to forget, and that was becoming annoying and confusing. It also didn't help that he had a rugged, hard-working, earthy smell to him that she found mildly pleasing. "Um," she muttered, which prompted him to look at her, "thank you for your input, Kojuro,"-she still found it odd to call him by name to his face-"but you can let me go now."

Heat flooded from his chest, up his neck and through his face, locking up his ability to react promptly as he realized how inadvertedly close they were; he hadn't even realized, being single-mindedly focused on breaching the gap between them by offering assistance, hoping he could get over his own apprehensions about her and melt the icy wall she'd formed between them in response to said behavior-in a way, he was jealous of his lord's easy manner and ability to connect to others more readily than he could-that taking her reaction to their proximity into consideration hadn't even bothered to cross his mind since it was an inevitable happenstance anyway.

The fact she smelled divine-like plum blossoms with something sweet and warm underneath-didn't help him with moving away any more readily either, her ivory skin as flawless as the porcelain dolls' traders brought from the west. When he did move, it was a few seconds later than he'd intended and a pregnant silence had started to form between them; clearing his throat, he muttered, "Just practice that until you don't have to think about it and I hope you'll see an improvement soon." Then, as quickly as he'd arrived, Katakura left, leaving her by her awkward lonesome once again.

In the aftermath of their encounter, Katsumi was busy sorting her thoughts out, getting back into her usual frame of mind before putting away the moment to mull over later, as she still had much to do before her little "date" with Date tonight. It was about time she started doing what she was hired to do, being the only member of the new intelligence force.

_I need to think of a name for it. I can't keep calling it "the intelligence force"._

Making a quick note of it, she went to her room to change out of her armor and into something more suited to a trip into town.

Sundown came swiftly, painting fire in the sky and stretching shadows into skinny renditions of the things creating them, the inner rock garden growing dark enough for the lanterns to be lit before Katsumi returned and found her way to the designated meeting place. The Number One of Oshu was already there, waiting, and she smiled to herself when she saw him, approaching him quickly but quietly; the air around her grew electric in a heartbeat, her hair frizzing in response to the negative charge that suddenly crackled across her body, her gut telling her it was peeling off of the man in front of her, permeating a four-squared-foot radius around him so that every brush of fabric was accompanied by static pops and blinks, the energy a kind of quiet anger that made her hesitant as she sat beside him, almost afraid to speak.

Almost.

"Lord Masamune," her gentle voice cooed, her pink lips pursed slightly in concern, "is everything alright?"

He grunted.

Date Masamune was pissed, and for all he was worth, he didn't know why. Well, he knew what had set him off, but he didn't know _why_ it did, and that only made him angrier with himself. Once again via word-of-mouth, word had reached him that certain people were getting warm and cozy behind his back, and without even meaning to he'd slammed his teacup down and split it right up its side, the crack deep enough to cause tea to start leaking out, his anger as sudden and strong as a solar flare. There was no valid reason for him to feel this way, and yet he couldn't stop it, his confusion feeding an endless cycle of hurt and anger that only grew and grew as the minutes passed. And unfortunately, part of the trigger happened to be nearby and a perfect target for him to vent on.

"I'm just peachy," he bit out, refusing to look at her, keeping his angry, blue eye riveted on the willow in the far corner of the garden.

Katsumi flinched, confused at his tone. "Don't lie to me, lord Masamune. What's wrong?"

He should've known not to try and divert the truth from her, but it would've been better if she'd left it be. "What's this about you and Kojuro getting all touchy-feely earlier today?"

Well, that could've been handled better.

Indignant and even more confused than before, Katsumi sputtered, "W-what? Master Katakura and I? Where did you get that idea?" _Wait... is he _jealous?

"Don't lie to _me_," he growled, finally turning toward her and glaring fiercely, his iris seeming to light up from within with the very energy crackling between them, his temper getting the better of him and earasing all ability to act tactfully. "My men _saw_ you both in the training yard. What the hell? So much for him having you 'on ice'."

Katsumi's eyes widened in hurt shock for a second, just before her own anger shot through her, her jaw jutting out as she straightened her spine, not about to allow him to intimidate her; for now, she was able to keep it on a simmer, as she was usually a level-headed person to begin with. Carefully, she started, "Lord Masamune, let me explain," and he snarled, rolling his eye and twisting away from her completely, which only made her even more mad. "Don't believe everything you hear through the grapevine. Master Katakura and I were close, yes, but he was helping me with my aim. There is nothing between us. I swear."

"Whatever."

Her anger coalesed into hot tears of betrayal, serving as a painful reminder of _why_ she had set such firm barriers for herself about keeping work and life separate affairs. When social relations became strenuous or tense, she could work to get away from them for a while and vice-versa, but mixing the two she knew would only cause problems, as she wouldn't be able to get away if things went south. Like now. She let herself become enthralled by Masamune's charm, become submissive to his charisma, and she knew that never should have been allowed to happen, because he was her lord and employer and she had no way to escape him now because of that. Because she let feelings grow where they shouldn't.

_It's my own stupid fault, _she scolded herself, furiously dabbing at her damp cheeks and looking away from him, unable to control her sharp tongue any longer. "_You're_ the one who said if he and I wanted to be together you were alright with it. You have _no right_ to be angry after saying that."

"I never said I had to like it."

She rounded on him and he jumped, having looked over to make his retort, her eyes and fiercly lit as his own, a different crackling power seeping between them, this time feeling as if it were coming from the young woman, not himself. "Then you shouldn't say things like that if you don't mean it! What is your problem anyway? You're not my husband, you're my employer. You don't control who I spend my time with. I am a human being, _not a tool to be used. __**I have rights and feelings.**_"

Her angry shriek had alerted the night staff inside that were preparing their master's bed and they hurriedly finished their task before fleeing the premises, not wanting to risk their necks for a little gossip, as they hadn't gotten to know the new lady's temperament yet. It also served to shock-and-awe the young lord in question, his anger faulting and lapsing him into stunned quiet as she hit him with painful words in the way only a woman can. "Clearly you don't care about that, though," she went on, her anger deepening into cold sorrow, her tears falling in a torrent down her face as painful things began to resurface, memories of how she was used by her clients to kill, seduce, steal and jeopradize innocent people. "You're just like the others, treating me like dirt and saying you're not, wanting to control me like the swords you weild in battle."

"Katsumi," he cut in, completely deflated and wounded by her accusations, though he didn't deserve less in her opinion.

Naturally, she ignored him, too over-drawn to pay attention. "I'm telling the truth, dammit! Why would I lie to you? What reason do I have to? I have a right to be happy with anyone I choose, and you will _not_ take that from me!"

_The crimson boy with the twin spears attacks, flames leaping about his body, scortching his opponent._

_Flames lick up the walls and across the floor, devouring the wooden room like a hungry animal, the lone body soon turning to ashes in the blaze. The fire has spread to the rest of the shop, eating away at house and home and precious memories, the ceiling splitting with a deafening _crack_ as the heat makes its way to the second story, blackening everything it touches._

Masamune called for Katsumi to snap out of her fit, more terrified of her sudden, pained shout than her hurtful yelling. One second she was tearing him apart with her words, and the next she seemed to be the one falling apart; she'd cut herself off and grown terribly pale, her gaze clouding just seconds before she yelped and dug her fingers into her hair, shaking her head as if she were shaking off something causing her pain, then she broke out in a sob and clutched her stomach, doubling over and choking on her own voice. Panic welled hot and deep inside him, completely obliterating his irrational anger in favor of putting his arms around her and giving her a frightened shake, calling for her, asking her what was wrong.

When the sharp stab in her lower stomach ebbed away, the distraught rouge shot up and ripped away from his grip, shaking off the warm hands that had become a source of nightmarish pain when they once brought a warm comfort to her being. With a final shout of, "You're just an insensitive clod!" she was away, running headlong into the castle and gone before he could get up and follow.

Utterly deflated and unwilling to follow after that fiasco, Date leaned back against the pillar behind him and ran a hand through his shaggy, dark brown hair, a headache forming in the back of his skull as the static air lost its charge, his anger turned inward on himself as he reprimanded his idiocy for letting it get the better of him. Now he'd gone and hurt someone he never wanted to, chased off the one source of easy happiness he'd found, and he was going to pay for it later, he just knew it.

"I," he said into the half-darkness around him, all strength to give chase leaving his body, "am a colossal fuck."


	9. Chapter 8

Haruka bowed respectfully as Katsumi came out of the the locked bathroom, clutching her stomach and visibly pale because of it, offering to accompany her back to her quarters. The woman shook her head slightly, feeling dizzy and sick with pain, leaning on the wall ahead of her and saying breathlessly, "Please, go on ahead and bring a glass of water to my room, hot or cold, I don't care, and open the top drawer of my hutch. Inside,"-she gasped, feeling a hard stab in her womb-"i-inside are piles of herb packets on cloths. Take one from the pile marked with the character for 'pain'-you know what it looks like?-and mix it with the water for me. Then you can go on and do something else because I only wish to sleep."

"Yes, milady."

Once the hallway was clear, Katusmi rammed her head into the wall, hoping to give her brain something else to focus on instead of the tumult going on in her lower body. The onset of her period had helped her piece together her irrational and unusual instability, explaining why she had lost her cool so quickly instead of explaining calmly until he understood the truth. She pondered whether she should apologize and try again once her cycle had ended, but her wounded pride reared up and convinced her to "fuck it" and let him stew in the mess he'd made for himself; maybe that would change in a few days, maybe it wouldn't, she didn't care right now as she staggered down the barren halls, trying to find her way to her warm bed and get away from the chance of running into the idiot Dragon. It was her own fault for opening her up to such vulnerability when she didn't know the full risk of the exposure; she didn't know him as completely as she might have wished, didn't understand why he would act like such an ignorant child after denying the possibility of involvement-hell, he'd ractically given the two his blessing!-and then continue to make the mistake of ignoring her explanation and being too stubborn to admit that knowledge circulated through the grapevine wasn't the most reliable in the world.

Self-preservation had always been her top priority-she'd needed it to be in order to fulfill her life-long ambition-and ruining her system for the sake of tender feelings seemed like too much of a loss right now. Getting hurt wasn't something she stomached well and disappointing herself was even less tolerable, so in her pain-addled phase of mind, the broken-hearted rogue of Owari decided that she needed to keep _herself_ on ice, rather than let herself be hurt by her boss and his ridiculous moods again.

Omnipresence as it was, the grapevine wasted no time in finding Kojuro as he made his nightly rounds through the castle, alerting him to the disturbance that had occured only half an hour ago. Feeling guilty and mostly responsible for the event-having taken the time to question several different sources before using his unbiased judgement to glean the truth-he took a detour from his route to pay a visit to his lord only to find him asleep, if not wearing an expression of irritation while so; changing tactics, he went to the rouge's room, having less aversion to rousing her than Masamune.

He found her alseep as well, and also that he didn't have the heart to disturb her once the wane moonlight the doorway allowed in illuminated the still-fresh tear tracks on her cheeks and the dewy drops that clung to her eyelashes, painting her into the perfect image of beauty in heartbreak. Knowing his lord's temprament and beginning to understand Katsumi's fragile inner heart as a result of this incident, the Right Eye decided to run interference, as living with the two of them while they were close and affectionate was straining his nerves enough as it was-having to deal with them while they were at odds with each other would undoubtedly be worse, and he had no idea if this woman were of the "unstable-enough-for-homocide" persuasion.

Leaving the poor girl to sleep, the older man started for the front gate of Yonezawa so he could visit his vegetable garden as he always did before bed, trying to muck out what he would say to get the two on good terms again and _not_ make things worse first.

Morning found Katsumi taking another heavy dose of painkiller with her breakfast and dressing for the day, wearing a solid black _kimono_, as she didn't feel particularly inclined to wear anything pretty or cheerful today. Then, with her mind closed to any stray thoughts that would distract her, she set out to work, heading into town.

Kojuro had passed by her, but the arctic desolation in her eyes staved off his questioning, as she did _not_ seem capable of rationalizing at the moment, so he left her be and headed to "take two" after doing his morning rounds, knowing he could talk sense into at least one of them; it was a fine, confusing line he walked between these two strong wills, one susceptible to his questions but not his orders, the other sort-of under his control but totally independant from his influence, and he walked it with grace and confidence, as only a man experienced at walking lines could. Gratification came as often as disappointment, an equal exchange of circumstance, and he'd learned to grimace and bear it, hoping one day to make the balance shift so things would end better more often than not. So with his fingers figuratively crossed, he went to the door of his lord's office and knocked three times, waiting for the customary grunt of an answer that told him it was alright to enter that never came, which was odd because he knew for a fact Masamune was in this room.

A spike of worry cut through him, but he remained composed as he pulled the door open, even if it may of had a little more force behind it than it should have. First, a sigh of relief rushed out of his lungs, then he noticed that everything was still not alright with the world within Yonezawa castle.

Date Masamune was hunched over his little work desk, shoulders slumped, fists tangled in his hair with his elbows propped up on either side of the stack of deeds he'd yet to get to, unmoving. At first, it would appear that he was suffering from some severe migrane, but the clatter of the door opening startled him and he looked up, slightly panicked; it was then that Kojuro saw the broken light in his single, oceanic eye-a look only seen once before when the previous lord Date had passed away and the young lord was left on his own-that he knew the poor boy was suffering the after-effects of scorning a woman he obviously cared for thoroughly. An ignorant on-looker may have believed Masamune was close-to or had already shed tears in silence, but this was not so; the One-Eyed Dragon did not cry-had not since his mother and lord father had passed on so many years ago.

Bedeviled by grief and his own stupid arrogance, Masamune hadn't been able to concentrate at all, his thoughts constantly straying-which itself was already frustrating-to images of the night before: the tears streaming down Kataumi's cheeks, the way her voice cracked under the weight of her own emotions, the anger and pain that etched their way into her features; all caused by him. The guilt was unbearable.

"Kojuro," he acknowledged, cursing the way his voice wavered when he tried to brush off his current state, which was a futile attempt anyway since hardly anything escaped his watchful Right Eye.

"Sir," the older man answered, giving a quick little bow, "my apologies for intruding, but I wish to speak to you."

"Is it about the fields or something?"

"No, sir," Kojuro stated while sliding the door shut and locking gazes with Masamune, "it's about Katsumi."

It was obvious by the way his body jerked upward that he was jumping to the wrong conclusion, even before he asked, "Is she alright?!" having assumed she'd been injured or run off; his knee collided with the bottom of the desk and sent a sharp jolt down his leg that made him think twice about jumping around in the future.

"She's as fine as she can be," Kojuro replied, gesturing for him to calm down, continuing while sitting across from his lord, "I've heard I may the one to blame for this happenstance, but as I do not know the account firsthand, I wish to ask what happened last night."

Puffing and trying to act more like himself, Masamune leaned on one fist, looking everywhere except at Kojuro, trying to put his usual drawl back into his voice. "More proof who's the smarter of us two," he muttered crossly, feeling his brow twitch while trying to play off the anxiety within himself. "Honestly, I have no idea what the hell happened. One second, we're talking like normal people, the next, everything goes to _shit_. We bumped into each other yesterday right before you caught me and everything was fine. _I_ was fine."

"You weren't stressed over work or upset over something?"

"Not at the time. I hate to admit this, but I can't lie to you, so here goes..." With a sigh, the One-Eyed Dragon divulged his inner torment, how hearing "that stupid rumor" about Katsumi and the Right Eye had upset him and what was going through him as Katsumi tore into him with viscious and cryptic precision, whittling him down until his anger was a moot and ridiculous point. He even went overboard describing how she looked when he'd unjustly attacked her and how her reactions had hurt him, all the while Kojuro just sat and listened intently, seeing but not verbally acknowledging the flurry of emotions that danced across the young man's face-ranging from deadpan to furious to broken-all in the space of a few heartbeats.

Sometimes it was immensely amusing watching him try to be indifferent and failing, but this time Kojuro was beside himself, sympathizing with his lord almost too well as he tried to understand the raging storm brewing inside the boy. When his story finished, Masamune lay his hand across his eyes, trying to compose himself, as Kojuro ran through everything again and strung together what he was going to say. Judging by everything he'd just been told, he felt that the young Date might be falling into something he wasn't prepared for, and as apprehensive as he was about Katsumi and her motives, the idea of certain feelings blooming between the two didn't sit well with him. At all. Yet he was in no position to deny them either.

"Lord Masamune, I feel as though I should clarify a few points for your sake."

"Eh?" Masamune glanced up between his long fingers.

"While it is true miss Katsumi and I were together in the training area, it had nothing to do with any sort of secret relationship between us. I have monitored her growing progress over the weeks, and while she is no genius in her arts, she is improving steadily, if not with poor execution. I approached her yesterday in the dual hope of aiding her so she may be of more use to us in the future and in quwelling my own personal issues with her. Miss Katsumi and I do not see eye-to-eye on much and can barely stand each others' presence." He swallowed when his throat began to dry as he remembered said encounter. "There is not nor will there ever be anything between us that is more than mutual allies under your banner."

Masamune visibly relaxed, a sigh slipping from his throat before he could catch it.

"In the future," the Right Eye went on, pretending not to notice the relief in Masamune's posture, "I advise you not to put so much weight on silly rumors. Now, in brutal honesty, miss Katsumi is a very beautiful young woman with a strong will and I admire that about her, but as you mostly likely know, I still do not completely trust her. She is still too new to us and we know hardly anything about her, therefore I advise against getting too cozy with her, my lord."

Date clucked his tongue. "You're such a stick in the mud, Kojuro. She seems perfectly honorable to me."

"People of her line of work are masters at deception. I'll give no weight to my accusation, as she has proven her worth time and again, but please do not ignore my words, lord Masamune. It's too soon to assume anything. She needs to be observed for a longer amount of time, in case this is some kind of clever suicide mission on her part."

The young man groaned and rolled his eye. "Geezes. I get it. Normally I'd argue because I do trust her, but because it's you and I trust you more because you're usually right, I'll put it on hiatus, _okay_? You're the closest thing I have to a dad now so if you're in a tizzy about this I'll make sure to fix it before doing something crazy. Sound good?"

But Kojuro couldn't speak. At least not right away. As casually and subtly as it had been slipped in, he didn't miss the reference Masamune had made and upon hearing it, a sharp jolt of affection and flattery had worked its way into his chest; balling his fists was all he could do to not reach up absently to feel his pounding heart.

He did love the Date boy like his own son, as he was the one who'd practically raised him from the time he could walk. Becoming the boy's personal guard had been a big step up for his career at the time, and with the way his noble house operated, when social events weren't happening, Masamune often found himself alone with nothing and no one to talk to. Kojuro, having already gleaned some affection for the small child due to his energy and charisma, took it upon himself to care for him. He helped the boy learn to read and write, taught him swordplay, how to play strategy games like _go_ and how to ride a horse; over the years, a deep trust and love had formed between the two, even if neither would admit it out loud to the other, that carried up to this day where Masamune was the ruling lord of his house and Kojuro his loyal strategist, retainer and second-in-command, their loyalty to the other never in question, even for a minute.

Hearing for himself for the first time how deep their uspoken bond was, even if only in passing words, touched him deeply, and it could be seen on his face and in his eyes how moved he was by those words. Date saw this and he grinned a little, his mind at ease for the moment, knowing his dear friend had understood him.

It didn't last long though, as neither of the men were the type to openly show such affection to anyone, even themselves, and so they stowed it away in a hurry, trying to look anywhere except at the one seated across from them, coughing or clearing their throats unnecessarily as they got back on track. The current situation came back with a vengence and Masamune visibly wilted, his gaze becoming distance and his voice little more than a murmur as he asked, "So what am I supposed to do, Kojuro? She's the one who has _me_ on ice now and it's driving me crazy."

"You need to apologize, my lord," the Right Eye answered immediately, adding on as an afterthought, "sincerely. Women respond more readily when they see that the person doing the apologizing is being open and honest."

"And how am I supposed to do that when she won't even spend two seconds with me without going arctic? She came by this morning to tell me she would be out on intelligence business for a few hours and I swear to God she looked dead. She didn't even wait for an answer before vanishing."

"You make her listen. Yes, treating her like a thing may be exactly what caused this, but it may also be the only way to make her sit and listen long enough for you to get your peace in."

"And what if-"

Both men jumped as a shadow appeared outside the door, crouched on the patio, a smooth and familar voice cutting in with, "My lord, I have returned."

"Ah, Katsumi," Masamune sighed, feeling the jolt leaving his system; he was going to have to get used to that soon. "_What's up?_"

She didn't answer right away, trying to resist indulging him. After composing her mind, she replied, "There is not much to report, other than a rumor that's been circulating through the countryside. It may be of no consequence, but I have a particular interest in it. Shall I divulge?"

"By all means, divulge," he said quickly, having another silent side conversation with Kojuro that consisted mostly of glares and shaking heads.

Unaware of what was going on behind the door, the rouge continued, "I first heard this particular tidbit two weeks ago. At the time, I thought nothing of it, but it's becoming more prominent by the day, and so I started researching it. There is apparently a solo group currently occupying the southwest borderlands that has been causing Oda forces in and around Owari and the joining lands some grief; whether they be brigands, rebels or mercenaries, I have not found out yet, but several similar stories have come up from many different areas of the country all just east of the Owari border, and it's led me to believe they may all be part of the same group. Tomorrow I will depart for the countryside in order to further investigate these stories to see if they ring true or are just a fable made up to ease the growing awareness of invasion that's been making its way around. Should it be true, it may prove beneficial to explore the options of an extracirricular force bent on causing the Oda hell."

Once more, her take-charge attitude left no questions about who was in control of her decisions; the only person she had to defer to was Masamune, and even that was only a formality really, as her contract stated the intelligence force-which still has yet to obtain an official name-was under Katsumi's direct control and required no inhibiting chain of command and permission, deigning to function as its own entity with all information obtained to be sorted by importance and relevance to be delivered to Masamune or Kojuro directly, and while they could interfere personally with any actions deemed unnecessary or such, it was the head of the department that was in charge of what was to be done and when, with trust being the key factor between them; yet another way to test her resolve over the long haul.

"You're very efficient," Kojuro offered, jerking his chin at the door while giving his lord a meaningful look.

"Thank you," she replied evenly.

Date shrugged, looking frantic.

"How long do you plan to be gone?"

"A week, maybe two if I get a good lead. Master Katakura," she went on, "I also wish to speak with you when I return. It has do to with the future of my department."

_Ouch_, Masamune winced, feeling like he'd been suckerpunched by that brush-off.

"Why not now?" the Right Eye prompted, hoping to keep the chance open for Masamune to do _something_.

She paused a second. "Are you free to discuss at present, master Katakura?"

Kojuro saw his lord shrug, completely at a loss, and he sighed quietly. "Yes, I believe I am." With a sharp glance at the young man, he rose and exited the room, seeing up close and directly just what Masamune had meant when he said she looked dead: no light twinkled in her eyes and her gaze was vague, her eyes and body not turning in response to noise or words, as if she were functioning without really functioning. _The hearts of women_, he said to himself as they began to walk into the castle, _are as fragile as new sprouts in a field._

For a while, they walked together silently and Kojuro was beginning to wonder if she'd forgotten what she wished to discuss. Opening his mouth to encourage her to speak, he noticed they'd walked into the abandoned wing-what used to be the family's living quarters back when the Date were a functioning family-and was cut off when the woman beside him finally made an effort to communicate.

"I came across this place a few weeks ago while mapping the castle. I was wondering what it was being used for, as it doesn't look to be lived in at all."

Kojuro grunted, "Storage, a bit. It used to be rooms, but now it's just empty."

They'd walked into the inner garden, a twenty-by-twenty-five-square patch of what used to be a pond and some shrubbery, but that had long-since dried up and decayed away, leaving it nothing but gray dirt and stones. Katsumi gestured to it, still not looking at her companion, and said, "This is what got me interested. After perusing your stores, I noticed limited variation in medicinal herbs and, unsurprisingly, a lack of poisonous ones, and as you know, I work with both to a great degree. It also occures to me," she went on, sensing a sharp jolt from him as his suspicion spiked, "that even though I have no recruits as of yet-all of which will be hand-picked in due time-I lack any space to call my own on behalf of the intelligence corps we established, and so I wanted to inquire about requisitioning this area to be used as a supply-and-quarter for the future."

Impressed at such forethought, Kojuro inquired, "What exactly do you intend to do?"

"This area," she gestured again to encompass the garden bed and the surrounding walkways, "would become a central store and supply of any herb not readily available from the storerooms, medicial and not. The extra rooms would act like barracks, come the day when I find suitable candidates, which won't be until I get my own act together and can actually function like a proper department head."

His brows rose in acknowledgement of her statement, glad she wasn't rushing headlong into her role like a certain someone would be bound to do.

"Also teaching rooms and storage for specific things, evne indoor training areas come bad weather."

Nodding a bit, Kojuro murmured, "Sounds like a good plan," then went on a little louder, "but why are you asking me for permission? It is lord Masamune's domain, he'll have to give you the go ahead."

Pursing her lips, she tightly replied, "Lord Date and I are on bad terms at the moment. I do not wish to speak to him directly if I mustn't, so I would ask you to be liaison."

The opportunity was too perfect to ignore, so putting on a slightly-disappointed face, he turned toward her and folded his arms, narrowing his eyes and telling her point-blank, "You shouldn't run away from your problems. I won't be the middle-man just because you two had a falling out. If you want something done, take responsibility as department head and ask him yourself. maybe even solve your problem. Whatever it was, I'm sure it was a misunderstanding."

"There's little to misunderstand about unjust possession," she bit back, rounding on her heel and marching away from him. "Fine, I'll make the arrangements myself later. I need to ready for tomorrow."

"Katsumi!"

But she disappeared-literally-around the corner, leaving a very frustrated Right Eye behind fuming and fed up with the pesky little squabble already.

With no idea as to where the biligerent rogue had gone to, the two men spent the evening working out a way to get her to stop and listen to a heartfelt apology. It was unusual to see Masamune so shaken and nervous, but then, the boy never was good around women when it came to emotional things, so it wasn't a terribly big surprise he kept getting cold feet. With little sleep between them, the next morning they went early to Katsumi's room, hoping to intercept her, Kojuro taking up an invisible post around the corner, ready to spring should things go south.

Mustering as much confidence as he could, Date reached for the hand slot, paused, then raised his fist to knock-just in case. Just the instant before he touched the panel, Haruka rounded the corner and sputtered, "Lord Date!" and bowed deeply to him, her hands quivering.

"Eh?" he huffed, not in the mood for trivial matters.

"Forgive me, milord, but I have a message that was to be given to you from Lady Reiko."

He automatically turned toward her, confused. "Message? Where is she?"

Fearing his rage, Haruka hesitated, but she also knew silence would be just as bad since he needed to know. "Miss Reiko departed from Yonezawa early this morning, before sunrise. Milady told me last night to tell milord she was not available now and that she would not return for at least a fortnight."

"_Damn it!_" he shouted, ignoring the girl when she flinched, still bowed, and punched at the door. "Of all the lousy...!"

"Lord Masamune," Kojuro intervened, having seen Haruka shaking even from a distance, "you're frightening the girl. Being angry about it doesn't change the fact that she seems to have outsmarted us,"-this he said with a half-bitter-half-impressed tone-"so instead of terrorizing the staff, we should just wait for her return. Maybe she'll have calmed down by then."

"Yeah," Masamune growled sarcastically, "or maybe she thinks I'm an even bigger prick than before and hates my guts." Without warning, he turned and made for the nearest exit, Haruka straightening behind his back and darting behind Kojuro to escape around the opposite hall, the older man quickly stepping up to stop him, reaching out and catching the boy lord's arm.

"Where are you going?"

Date yanked from his grip. "I'm getting my horse! I'm not gonna let her leave thinking I'm an arrogant jerk."

"Lord Masamune," the Right Eye replied evenly as his lord started walking away again, which drew him to a halt of his own accord, "you don't even know how far she is or what road she's taken. Without an immense amount of luck, you won't be able to find her. Especially if she doesn't want you to."

Masamune stood there, angry, tired and quaking with disappointment at himself and somewhat at her for not giving him a chance, but the longer he tried to hold it against her, the stronger it turned back at him, whispering _It's your fault_ to him over and over, his cerulean iris alight with enraged power, teeth grinding, jaw ticking, his breathing long and shakey with coils of mad power leaking off of him. Throwing together a string of colorful curse words, he marched in the opposite direction toward the training yard, wanting to cut something up and work off his aggrivation. Kojuro let him, knowing the only thing worse than a sleeping dragon is an angry one; once his lord was gone, he made an about-face and headed toward the aviary where their messanger hawks were kept.


	10. Chapter 9

A week had passed with surprising speed, and Katsumi had found herself at the end of another cold trail, her stomach growling and her head abuzz with a series of thoughts moving so fast and so furiously she was certain they'd derail on her and she'd crash. Guilt, sorrow and anger at herself had been interefering with her work all day. The oneset of ehr period had birthed, fueled and sustained her anger at Masamune for the duration of her cycle, but once it ended the day before and she calmed down she realized with a sickening abruptness that she'd been completely not herself and a total jackass to both him and Kojuro. Normally she was a kind, understanding and calm person, but then-righteous fury had driven her to ignore them and their plights and it made her feel terrible.

_He probably hates me_, she thought, feeling another wave of guilty nausea sweep through her as she walked up the lonely country road to another town nearby where she hoped to find a new lead.

Mostly, she'd learned only the name of the group that had been the cause of the upset: the Saica Group, reputed Oda haters and already friends in her book. But other than that, all trails about them were either rumors that ended up being false, or were being guarded closesly by tight-lipped individuals and it was adding to her frustration greatly.

I should call it quits and head back. I owe him an apology for my behavior, even if he won't apologize for his.

Being forgiving she'd always believed was a blessing, but most times she'd felt the return sting of forgiving the wrong people for the wrong reasons. She'd hoped he was different, but period or no, she was still doubtful. _Unless it _was_ jealousy... maybe... he does care? He seems like the type to lie and ignore his feelings... No, don't get hopeful!_ She hit herself lightly on the cheek. _He's a lord, you're a rogue. He's of noble birth, you're an orphan from a _kimono_ shop. It couldn't be when he can have any proper woman he wants. I'm sure there are plenty who'd kill for the chance to marry him. Just focus on tracking the rumors before you get all dizzy again, Katsumi. It's not worth the heartache to go overboard with fantasies. No more hopeful wishes._

_Now where-_

The low-slung spruce that grew beside the road gave no indication of going anywhere else and birdwalking little Katsumi figured it out too late that trees tend to stay put, even if they seem to come out of nowhere. Doubled over and squishing her palm against her forehead, she rocked, swearing quietly until the pain ebbed away, glad no one had been around to see her collide with the branch that stretched out over her side of the road.

"Note to self: pay attention dammit."

The next day, Katsumi reached a small town somewhere on the southern coast line-and in this case, small means small. She could probably spit from one end to another and there wasn't anything resembling an inn anywhere. There weren't even any smiths, except for the one elderly man that seemed to just sit and stare at nothing for minutes on end, which led her to believe that she'd taken a bad turn along the way to end up there. Still, she held her head high and walked the main road like she belonged; unfortunately, the curse of small towns followed her every step. In places this tiny, everyone knows everyone and newcomers always stood out like she currently was.

Walking through, she grew unnerved and almost appalled by the condition of some of the buildings: they were all old and worn down, some even had giants holes in either the roof or the walls, there weren't even paper screens for windows which allowed mother nature to come and go as she pleased. How anyone could live here, she didn't know. Even the rogue hadn't been in such rinkidink shambles, and that was saying something!

Villagers paused in their doings and watched her as she passed, some mistrustfully, some curiously, and even a few waved at her; she waved back and wore a pleasant smile, hoping to get away from this tiny place soon, as she knew best that small town people could get extremely protective and desperate under strenuous circumstances. _Keep walking, don't make eye contact._

She'd almost made it too. Until a splotch of color caught her eye there up on a little rise north of the road. Katsumi paused and turned, seeing that one of the better-kept huts was teeming with flowers at its borders and that someone was up attending them diligently. Now, this wouldn't have seemed odd most of the year, but warm weather had only recently arrived in Oshu and with the unexpected frost that had come in only three weeks ago, planting had been delayed and blooming flowers had died or been put on hiatus, so seeing such vibrant foliage now seemed almost impossible-but which indicated a grower of exceptional quality and skill. Possibly even one to rival Kojuro.

The little wheels in Katusmi's head had begun to turn as she started to think, watching the gardener until they stood and dusted themself off; that's when she saw clearly it was a girl. Huddled up as she'd been, it was difficult to tell, but now it was clear as the girl's hair tumbled down her back. From this distance it was hard to peg what she looked like, but the girl went inside the shack and so Katsumi climbed the rise, tempting her luck.

The incline was fairly steep, and though the rogue woman was used to scaling castle walls and mountain sides, that was done so in her own clothes, and this _kimono_ was regrettably a little tight around her knees, making walking up the hill difficult. She made it though and found herself at the front door, which was little more than a plank of wood tied into place. From this new vantage point, the rest of the country side came into view, and with a start the woman saw the rice patties had better houses nestled among them than what was visible from the road, as the dual hillsides helped block everything under a certain point, working a kind of simple camoflauge. Clever as it was, she wondered why the dilapidated shacks even existed in the first place if it was clear the villagers didn't even live in them. Well, most of them.

She knocked, three quick raps with the back of her hand, and waited, hearing shuffling around inside for a few seconds before the plank door was slid open only enough to allow a half-view of a woman with long, graying hair that was once rich chocolate and worn down so it swayed about her body, which was petite and compact and slender enough to be mistaken for a much younger woman than what she was. Doey, dark eyes that twinkled with wary alertness watched her as the woman said, "Yes? May I help you?"

Only now did the younger woman realize she had no idea what she was going to say. "Um..." She went with bowing, and bowing was always acceptable. "Good day, ma'am. I just happen to be passing through and noticed the flower bed around your home and it got me curious as to how you've managed to grow such beautiful blooms so early in the season."

Tension lined the woman's face even more than it already was and her answering sigh didn't help to relieve them. "My daughter happens to be an exceptional gardener," she stated simply. "That's all. Now if you excuse me, I have a husband to tend to."

Right at that moment a little voice inside called out, "Mother!" and the woman whipped around, trying to shut the door, but not wanting to give up just yet, Katsumi's hand flung out and caught the edge, which seemed to surprise the woman as she tried to shut the door but it refused to budge. "Wait!" she barked, her kind heart getting the better of her. "What's wrong with him?"

"Fever," the woman answered hastily, still trying to shove the door shut.

"May I see? I happen to be a healer."

The woman's dark eyes widened witha spark of hope, but they clouded over just as quickly, stress obviously ruining what otherwise appeared to be a cheerful demeanor. "We have no money for you."

Crude dismissal or not, Katsumi knew she'd gotten a hook in this mother and she tried to enforce that. "No money. I just wish to sit and talk with you and your daughter in exchange for treating your husband."

For the longest of moments the two women stared at each other, read each other, before another desperate "Mother!" cut the air and the woman huffed, stepping back and rushing away, leaving the door open. Hesitantly, Katusmi stepped in behind and peered around, slipping between the door and the wall, her hair catching on a stray nail for a second as her eyes adjusted to the dark interior that was lit only by the sun shining through holes in the walls near where the roof and house met, giving the single room a dim glow. It was only one room, a hearth to the right and bedding along the back with a makeshift wooden floor lifting up a few inches to separate sleeping and eating areas, the back wall crowded with blankets and bodies.

She approached hesitantly, observing. Mother and daughter sat side-by-side around the sickly figure of a man clearly plagued by a fever, the resemblance uncanny as the girl looked almost exactly like her mother, only much younger, not appearing more than fifteen, but if her mother was any clue, she was probably much older than that. needling that topic would have to wait as habit once more took over and she unhooked the small bag at her waist and sat down in a hurry at the husband's head, laying her palms on his cheeks and feeling a scortching fever before the wife lay a cool rang over his forehead, both women seeming distraught and tired.

"What happened?" Katusmi inquired while pulling out little packets of medicine, trying to avoid grabbing the bottles of poison and antidote that she always carried by accident.

"Ichiro was working in the fields, getting ready for the planting like every year," the wife said, her sob cutting through Katusmi's already worn heart. "But he slipped and cut his leg on a plow. He hasn't been able to work and when the fever took him, we didn't have any money for medicine or anything."

Without warning, Katsumi yanked the blankets off the man and bit into her lip to keep from making sound as memories of Masamune's arm came flooding back. How the man had lived this long she wasn't sure about, but it gave her hope. Not caring what was going on around her at the moment, she asked for a bucket of water and any scrap cloth they could spare and set to work.

Two hours passed in a blur in the dark hut, sweat trickling down Katsumi's face, the mother busy offering prayers to any gods that would listen and her daughter wiping said sweat from the strange woman's brow as well as her father's, her little hands shaking. Finally, after nonstop work and several scares, Arata Ichiro's leg wound was clean and stitched shut, his fever broken, and he slept though somewhat uneasily. His wife was thanking Katsumi profusely but the woman only waved her hand, trying to brush off the praise. "Don't, it wasn't any trouble. I just can never walk away from the sick or injured."

"No, no," she insisted, clutching one of the younger woman's hands tightly, joyful tears leaking down her face. "You've saved him, saved _us_. How could we ever repay that?"

Pursing her lips, Katsumi considered her reason for coming up to the shack in the first place and wondered if it might be too much to ask. "Like I said, I merely wished to talk."

"But what ever for?" Her husband's recovery seemed to awaken the courtesy within and for that, Katsumi was grateful.

"I think," she started, trying not to seem nervous, "we should introduce ourselves first, before we get too ahead of ourselves."

"Oh!" the wife cooed, touching her lips with her fingers. "Oh, you're right, how silly of me. I am Arata Amaya and this is my daughter Sayuri, thank you so much for your kindness." Bowing deeply, Amaya's daughter sputtered and followed suit behind her, mimicking her mother.

Katsumi bowed back, smiling kindly. "You're very much welcome, miss Amaya. My name is Reiko Katsumi."

Amaya sputtered and Katsumi's head shot up to see the woman had turned red. "R-rei... ko...? Reiko Katsumi... _the_ lady Katsumi of Yonezawa...? Of course you are, you'r eyes are as blue as lightning, just as they said!"

She blushed. "Um... yes..." She didn't think her reputation had preceeded her this far into the countryside.

Immediately, Amaya scooped the rogue's hands up in her own and squeezed them, her eyes lighting up even more than before. "You're lord Date's savior! Oh, we've heard about you! His lordship helped free our village from the horrid lord that had been squeezing us poor for so many years! Because of him our fields and our money are ours to use once again however we please! I-if I had known...!" She released Katsumi's hands as if she'd been burned. "Oh, my, please forgive me! If I'd known who you were sooner I wouldn't have been so rude!"

Gesturing for the woman to be calm, Katsumi said softly, "No, no, I understand. I avoid telling people when it's unnecessary."

Amaya seemed to tune that part out and cut right to the chase. "What would bring you so far out here, milady? Oh, Sayuri!" The girl jumped, having spaced off some minutes ago. "Fetch her ladyship some water!"

"No, you don't..."

Sayuri was up and gone in a blur of brown hair and pattering footsteps.

"Um... Well,"-she wasn't used to such treatment, and Sayuri had returned in less than a minute with a cup of cool water and laid it beside Katsumi, her brown eyes wide and sparkling with adoration-"I originally came this way following some rumors of interest, but I came up here to your home today because of your daughter's garden, as I said before."

"Oh, yes yes, of course."

Sayuri uttered, "Mine?" in deep awe.

The hero worship was making the poor woman severely uncomfortable. Still, she pushed on, trying to work past the knot in her stomach and work rank on herself for confidence. "Being the left hand of lord Masamune himself, and head of the new intelligence force being developed, I personally oversee the recruitment and training of those individuals. As it were, I happen to require a gardener."

Amaya's face fell with confusion. "A... gardener?"

"Not _just_ a gardener. A caretaker. A member of the force."

She gasped sharply.

"Nothing dangerous, of course, but seeing that miss Sayuri has a particular skill and I am not inclined to put just anyone in charge of it, she would the caregiver of the force's garden, which is the center of the techniques to be learned. It will be the source of the poisons and medicine we use in day-to-day activities and therefore it is of greater significance than just a simple flower patch." It was becoming easier and easier to explain as she went on. "Miss Sayuri would be the key to providing medical care and offensive advantage for the entire force, and would recieve training as my apprentice in regard to medicinal and toxic potions and any other field she shows specialization in. It is a paid position, and of course we can arrange to have part of her pay delivered directly here to you to supplement what you're losing while your husband recovers. She would travel with me to the castle and live and work there and be provided for, so you would never have to worry about her. Of course, it is work, as she will be the first recruit I've claimed and co-founder so she will need to aide in the initial set-up, but that is what I wished to discuss with you in exchange for healing your husband. I wish to take Sayuri as my apprentice."

The "discussion" didn't last long after that, as Ichiro was roused from his sleep by the noise and put his approval in, wanting his only child to have a fulfilling life since she didn't have a husband or family to provide for her. At that point, joyful dancing and praise went up as mother and daughter celebrated this momentous occasion; watching such an affectionate display brought memories of her own mother to mind, memories that lessened her good mood fractionally before she decided to push them away for later.

Now, with her good mood returning, Reiko Katsumi and her new charge, Arata Sayuri, bid farewell to the girl's parents and went on the road once again with a little food and water provided for them to make the next town easily. A hawk circled above their heads and cried out before flying off, and Sayuri was skipping along with her little bag of belongings swinging at her side, singing a little diddy about rice and rain while running in circles on the road ahead, clearly excited. Her antics made the woman smile and laugh, seeing how she was like a playful doll, so young and full of energy; Sayuri was very petite with little curve in her small body, denoting her to be no more than fourteen maybe, and flowing, brown hair that trailed behind her like a comet tail, her eyes an even darker, laughing brown that seemed to sparkle with the light of many, many stars, her cheeks always flushed with laughter and her skin a warm golden color from being in the sun tending to her garden.

She was a lovely young girl certain to grow into a charming lady should she ever get a grip on her vast stores of energy.

The girl finally stopped running and turned on her heel, her lavender _kimono_ fluttering up and mimicking the movement of her hair. "So, so, so," she chirped, jumping backwards in place, "where are we heading to lady Katsu?"

Katsumi smiled, finding her adorable. "I'm cutting my mission short on account of too many false leads and we are heading back to Yonezawa straight away to make your recruitment official."

"Yay! What's it like? It is pretty? Lots of flowers? I love flowers, all kinds and colors, especially when they have butterflies. What about koi ponds? Is there a koi pond?"

"Slow down," the rogue giggled, keeping a steady pace behind the bouncing girl. "Yonezawa is a grand castle with a lovely town at its foot with forests nearby. Everyone within its walls have been very kind to me over the weeks, but it is a primarily male-dominated structure so in regard to beauty, it has a very Spartan feel to it. There is one garden that lies outside my room with flowers and a pond, but I don't believe it has any koi in it."

"Aw, poop, koi are so pretty!"

"Haha, yes, koi are lovely."

"I love feeding koi they go _slurp_ when they poke their heads above the water." The girl turned forward, still bouncing. "Hop, hop, hop."

Katsumi laughed until her gut ached and it felt wonderful.

Several days later, as the duo neared the city surrounding Yonezawa, Sayuri's energy puttered out to a little sway in her walk, Katsumi suddenly stopped under a growth of trees near where the road forked ahead and waved her hand in the spring warmth, trying to recall which path lead to the city. She had to call out as the girl just continued on her way, watching her feet as she began to hopscotch along the road, taking the right-hand branch that led over a hill, but she apparently didn't hear as she continued to skip her way over the crest without any indication of stopping. With a sigh and a head shake, Katsumi went to follow the girl when abruptly she heard a piercing cry.

"KATSU!"

A bolt of speed took the woman over the hill where she stopped to take in the scene below her: Sayuri, her bag strewn across the ground with one dirty man going through it, being held in a half-choke hold, a knife at her throat by another who didn't have a shirt on and a third that looked up and smirked when he caught sight of Katsumi coming down the hill, her manner disturbingly composed and her hands tucked away in her sleeves. "Let her go," she commended, seeing Sayuri sobbing as the vile man that held her tried to untie her _kimono_ while keeping his hold on her.

"Ooooh," the man that wasn't doing anything drawled, glancing at his buddies and mocking her with fake fear, shaking his hands and brandishing a crooked knife while doing so. "We's real scared thar missie. Watcha little blossom like ye gonna do t'us? Three big ol' brutes wif knives 'n' stuffs?"

Oceanic orbs turned into acrtic ice in a heart beat, and suddenly Sayuri was more terrified of the woman she'd been with than the men who'd tried to rob her. Her voice was low-pitched and smooth, deceptively calm even though she was furious. "You aren't the only ones with knives. I said let her go."

"Make us," the creep holding the poor girl crowed, laughing while his friends agreed.

"Very well."

Katsumi disappeared.

When confusion struck the big idiot that had detained the brunette and made his guard drop, she yanked his hand down and bit him, tasting dirt and man sweat and not caring until she tossed her, shouting, "Bitch!" She hit the ground jsut as Katsumi reappeared above her captor and gave a swift kick to the back of his head, sending him face-down into the dirt where she promptly landed square on his back with a deafening series of _cracks_ and unleashing a barrage of needles at the one going through her apprentice's bag, most of them blasting him in the face and killing him instantly.

The third wasn't an idiot, but he still made the mistake of attacking her head on so she gave him a swift upper kick to the chin, feeling the painful jolt all the way up her leg from underestimating his weight against her foot and staggering when she set it back down, cursing her luck. He wasn't down yet, so she bolted forward and rammed into his gut, both of them sprawling into the dirt as she threw her weight at him, pulling a knife out and pushing it through his throat so blood sprayed into the sky, dousing her front but ending him quickly. Sayuri was whimpering incoherently about something, but as Katusmi turned to assess her, arms circled her chest and hauled her upward, crushing her and squeezing the breath from her body.

Sayuri had seen the man that had held her was still alive and she wanted to tell Katsumi, but shock and fear and awe had robbed her of her voice, dwindling it to a croak as he got up and began to crush her new friend in his massive monkey arms. Even though she was frightened beyond any means of measurement, the girl still ran forward and started beating on his back futily, telling him to "Drop Katsu you big monkey!" but he only laughed, squeezing until something in Katsumi's chest popped loudly, her body going limp and making the girl scream in fear.

Unfortunately, the sight of the spraying red blood had triggered another vision and Katsumi was helpless to it as she felt ribs flexing to their breaking point, though she was certain some just had.

_A warrior in crimson atop a horse, weilding twin spears, rode into the clearing, his long hair flying behind him, a small battalion bearing the Takeda four-diamond crested banners of Kai hot on his heels. He halted, seeming baffled, and called out._

Air and life were fading out of Katsumi fast, her vision and the vision flash both prematurely fading to black as the crushing weight continued to squeeze ehr into oblivion.

Then she heard a sound. Rather, she felt a sound building in her ears, a dull thrum that grew louder and sharper as if the source was drawing closer, eventually dragging out into individual beats that blended together into some single, raucaus sound that matched the pounding of the blood in her ears. She coughed, feeling the bohemoth's arms squeezing her even tighter so she couldn't breathe back in, and was at the very edge of consciousness when she heard a faint, "DROP HER YOU SON OF A BITCH" and the singing of a sword blade through the air before her captor's body jerked. Suddenly, she was on the ground, breath rushing into her deflated lungs, stretching out bruised and cracked ribs that sent pain shooting into her core and brought harsh gasps to her lips, everything weighted and numb as she fought the darkness.

_A man in silver armor, bearing a torn, red cape, surrounded by darkness..._

She groaned and strong hands clasped her arms and brought her up, the sound of sobbing and chatter swimming in her ears as the grip became rather familiar at last.

Masamune, completely underdressed and underprepared for fighting, leaped from his horse and hit the ground with an uncermonious _thud_, rushing to the fallen woman's side instantly and scooping her up, giving her a slight, panicky shake. "Katsumi!" he barked, reaching up and cupping her cheek, feeling that she was still warm. "Katsumi, stay with me, dammit!"

She groaned again before going limp.

Over the last week, the messenger hawks that Kojuro had sent out to their eyes in the countryside with Katsumi's description attached had been returning in a specific pattern that allowed them to track her movements. During this time, Masamune had been diligently memorizing her path and planning to ride out and cut her off, as he couldn't stand to wait any longer for her to come back when she felt like it; Kojuro figured him out just as he departed, but another hawk had returned that detailed that she was actually heading back toward the castletown with another girl that hadn't been mentioned before. Determined to inform his lord, the Right Eye had caught up on the southern trade road just as they heard an ear-shattering shriek from the fork ahead, which explains their presence here and now, completely underprepared.

Not wasting time trying to futilely wake the poor woman up, the young Date man stood and lifted her in his arms, bracing her over his shoulder as he swung himself back up onto his horse and then settled her in front of him, keeping her sagging body supported between his arms as he took up the reigns and turned his mount to face his second-in-command, his distress more obvious than usual. "Kojuro, let's go, I think she's hurt."

"Yes, my lord," Kojuro replied quickly, looking away from the whimpering brunette he'd been watching for the last minute-and-a-half. "Miss," he said to her, seeing her jump as tears flooded down her large, brown eyes, "were you accompanying Katsumi?"

Sayuri stammered, "Y-yes...! An-and then these ugly guys came and-and-and Katsu, she...!" Excited light suddenly entered her chocolate orbs, replacing her fear as she lept up, which surprised him even more. "Katsu was so cool how she saved me! She was all _whoosh_ and then they were dead, but then this guy grabbed her and I was so scared! And-and," that excitement faded just as quickly as it had arrived and she paled almost instantly, "is Katsu alright?! I heard something crack and she stopped moving and I thought she was gonna DIE!"

The brazen display of emotion had Kojuro thrown for a loop as he scooped up the dirty bag he saw on the ground and handed it to the girl, noticing the bright blood spatter on it from the body it had been next to, helping her to gather the things that had been tossed so carelessly about, wondering why on earth this child was here in the first place. "Miss, be calm," he told her sternly, seeing her zip up immediately, her bright eyes turned on him as she took her bag back, tears still glistening there that only made her large eyes seem bigger. "Katsumi will be alright but we must return to the castle immediately." He glanced up quickly to see Masamune was already heading down the road to the castle at a brisk trot, wanting to move swiftly but not jostle the unconscious woman any in case she was hurt severely. "If you have reason to be with her, then please allow me to escort you there myself."

"Okaaayyyyy," she mewled, eyeing him as he gestured toward his horse. She stopped, being dwarfed by the large animal and unsure of how to even get on, as she'd never ridden a horse before.

Sensing this, Kojuro stepped forward and she faced him instinctively, staring up at him, her mouth popping open at how tall he was; she'd never seen anyone so big before. "My apologies," he murmured before reaching down and grabbing her around her waist and hauling her into the air, at which she squealed, before being set in the rear of his saddle, her face now only centimeters above his.

Their eyes met, earth to olive, and little Sayuri felt her heart skip in her chest as she took a long second to look over her new escort. He was tall, that much she had already surmised, and very strong as he lifted her with all the ease of breathing, and his hands were large at her waist, gripping her middle almost fully; sure, he was scowling and his brows were drawn together like he was angry over something, but she found it an amusing look that was only punctuated by the single scar on his left cheek that made him look like an awesome badass. All-in-all, little Sayuri found him very good-looking in a cut, rugged way with his square jaw and tough expression, but thoguht he'd look even better if he smiled. Kojuro was aware of his momentary hesitation, having gotten caught up in the glint in her eyes as she so obviously studied him, his eyebrows furrowing as he thought about how strange she was before letting her go and carefully swinging into his saddle, wondering if she actually knew how to ride on a horse and whether or not she should hold on to him.

There was no need for him to ask, though, for as soon as he nudged his mount into motion, slowly building into a canter to catch up to his lord, she squeaked behind him and tossed her arms around his waist as she bounced in her seat, clearly an inexperienced rider. He shook his head slightly, feeling how tight her grip on him was, even when he finally slowed the pinto mare as they pulled up alongside the distraught young man. Everyone was silent and grim-though "grim" may not be an accurate way to describe the bubblehead in the backseat-as they maintained a steady trot to the castle, Katsumi's head bobbing against Date's arm helplessly in time to the bouncing mustang below her.

Just outside the city, the rogue swam back into consciousness slightly, faintly lifting her head and peering bleary-eyed at the shadow above her. Croaking like a mushed frog, she muttered, "Lord... Mas... amune...?"

Masamune started, glancing down as she struggled to sit up and seeing her wince as breath hissed through her teeth. "Katsumi, don't move," he scolded her, instantly adjusting to accomodate her apparent need to shift.

"What..." she whispered, slouching against him after a second, too hurt to keep trying, "are you... doing..." Breathing itself was already becoming too painful for her as her ribs continued to flex, unable to help themselves, and talking only made it worse for her, making her yearn for blank unconsciousness once again.

"Shh," he hissed sharply, more out of mindless worry than aggrivation, "I'll tell you later. Just don't push yourself, dammit."

"Sai," she still murmured, baling her fist weakly against his chest, wanting him to listen. "Sai... uri..."

Masamune stopped glaring at her worriedly for a second and looked over at Kojuro and his steed, spying the little brown bundle behind his second. "Hey," he snapped at them, noting Kojuro didn't acknowledge him because the older man knew he wasn't the one being spoken to, "kid, is your name Sayuri?"

Said kid turned her head, her cheek squeezed against Kojuro's shoulders. "Yes," she mewed, having twisted herself against her rider so she would stop bouncing all over the place, her bag nestled between her back and the saddle's, heairng her things clinking around with the horse's bumpy stride. "Katsu is awake?"

But he ignored her in favor of assuring Katsumi while she was conscious. "She's fine, she's right here," he said gently, leaning back in his seat slightly so she would lay against him rather than be draped between his arms like laundry.

"Oh... good..."

Sayuri cried, "Don't ignore me!" but Kojuro hushed her and gave her a repremanding glare to which she puffed her cheeks out at him, trying to be quiet anyway; Katakura just shook his head a bit at her behavior.

Feeling sick with how much his heart was aching for the injured woman, Date released the reigns with his right hand and reached down to lay it on her hip and give her a gentle squeeze, trying to watch for where the road forked once again back to the path to the city, whispering softly to her, "Don't worry, Katsumi, you'll be alright."

"Thank... you..." she replied before the darkness she wanted reclaimed her, her fisted hand falling into her lap, laying on top of his as her head dropped against his shoulder, which he lifted so that she would be tucked safely against his neck and not slide off, giving his mount a swift kick in the side to speed it up.

"_Screw this_," he announced, riding straight into the city with Kojuro and Sayuri right behind.


	11. Chapter 10

**Yay! uber-short fluffy chapter for my dear readers to enjoy! please review everyone, it really helps my motivation level to ehar thoughts and such. also, anyone who can figure out Sayuri's real purpose in this story gets unlimited virtual cookies!**

_"Doctor, when do you think she'll wake up?"_

Voices swam once again in Katsumi's ears, in and out, different each time until finally she stirred to only silence; for a moment she believed she was still unconscious, but then realizing if she were she wouldn't have to think about it, she pulled her eyelids open, each one feeling like a lead weight on her eyeballs, finding more darkness that was only interrupted by the moonlight pouring in through the paper window in the wall that ran along the foot of her bed and the single oil-burning lamp set on a small chest across from it. Everything burned or ached or was numb, but still she tried to sit up, sliding backwards so that she rolled up the pillow and could lean on the wall that made the headboard of her _futon_, feeling the curtain of her black hair around her shoulders, free and frizzy and needing a good brushing; she glanced down, focus still hazy, and found she was wearing her nightclothes, meaning she'd been changed, most likely by Haruka, but her top was open, revealing her chest, ribs and stomach, all bound in white bandages that helped to ease the ache in her body from her breathing.

She thought she was alone in what now became familiar as her room, but looking around in the dark space revealed a startling new fact: someone was with her. A shadow was hunched at the foot of her bed, completely still, and her heart pounded fearfully, wondering who or what it was; carefully, as moving only disturbed her broken chest, she reached for the lamp and turned it up so the flame would burn brighter and fill the room with more light. Upon doing so, she relaxed instantly, sighing as she recognized who it was with her. Then she froze.

Date Masamune was sprawled at the foot of her bed, lower back against the wall, one leg drawn up with his forehead resting on his knee, obviously asleep, one arm strewn across his lap, the other trailing on the floor; it didn't look comfortable.

_Why...?_

she vaguely wondered, still only half-awake herself as she leaned forward and drew her legs up close to her body, reaching out and grazing his shoulder gently. A muted "Hey" left her lips as she continued to prod him, not wanting him to continue sleeping there on the floor when he had a perfectly good bed down the hall.

Eventually she heard him gasp sharply and he jerked, his dangling arm flying up and landing on the edge of the bed as he reared up, his head snapping against the wall behind him. Katsumi flinched as he immediately winced, rubbing his head and shaking sleep off, his already moppy hair now a tangled mess she wanted to run her fingers through to straighten out, her mouth half open as she realized how thirsty she was.

Once the sleep had left his one good eye, Masamune realized with a start why he'd been so suddenly woken from the dream he'd been having, all his thoughts suddenly dominated by one realization. "Katsumi!" he said quietly, rushing forward and grabbing up her hand to give it a squeeze, so damn happy to see her smiling at him again. "You're awake!"

"Yes," she answered thickly, swallowing, wanting moisture.

Eye widening for a second, Date turned, keeping one hand on hers as he reached beside where he'd been sitting and picking up a bamboo container of water that he then handed to her. "Here."

"Thank you." Water nevers tastes more delicious than when its needed the most, and she desperately needed a drink, so she took the longest, deepest draft she could until a little bit of the liquid dribbled down her chin, her satisfied sigh signalling the return of her normal good mood. "That was good."

Date grinned at her, settling back down against the side of her bed, laying his arm over his knee, trying not to let on to just how happy he really was; he still wasn't used to dealing with his vast array of emotions that weren't related to battle excitment or frustration. "_You doing okay?_"

"I could be better," she said softly, laying her hands in her lap and stretching her legs back out, trying to shrug her shirt closed subtly.

The young lord's expression visibly shifted. "The doc said your ribs are pretty beat up. Not broken," he amended, seeing a brief flicker of panic in her eyes, "just really bruised and cracked."

"Oh, thank God..."

"Cha, you're telling me," he grunted, shaking his head. "I'm just sorry I didn't get there sooner to wail on those other bastards that were giving you trouble."

"No, no," she told him, reaching out to lay her hand on his shoulder when he started to look like he was walking the edge to anger. "I'm just thankful you showed up at all." A red flag went up. "Which reminds me... why _were_ you out there anyway?"

Slowly, Masamune reached up and laid his hand over hers, feeling how chilly it was squuezing her fingers into his warm palm, taking a deep breath. "I got sick of waiting," his voice cut out as he looked over at her, his single, blue eye shining in the dim room. "I've been trying to get you to talk to me for days and you leave. Kojuro wanted me to wait for you to come back because he thought you'd calm down being out of here, but it was driving me insane. I was beginning to think you wouldn't ever come back."

"Of course I was," she cut in hastily, bringing her other hand over his and pressing into his fingers, scooting closer so she wouldn't have to stretch. "I needed to apologize to you, lord Masamune." His face flickered with surprise. "My behavior was inexcusable. I was being unreasonable and should've let you explain yourself instead of running away like I did."

"Hey," he chided gently and laying his other hand on top of the little handstack they'd created, wrapping her palms and fingers in warmth, "if anyone was being inexcusable it was me. I was being such an asshat to you, and I've been dying to apologize to you for almost two weeks now. I overreacted to everything, I,"-he hesitated to tell her what he was actually feeling and went with the other answer that was partially true-"was under a lot of stress and wasn't thinking straight. Kojuro got everything laid out for me and I figured out what an idiot I'd been. You're right, you aren't a tool or an object and I never wanted you to feel that way, I was just being a prick. You're Reiko Katsumi, a valued and equal member of the Date Army and I never should have treated you like anything less."

Katsumi sobbed.

She'd finally heard the words she'd been dying to hear for so many years.

"Hey, hey," he hissed, reaching to lift her sagging chin and wipde her cheek with his thumb, worried he'd somehow done something wrong again-hence why he didn't interact with women when he could help it, so touchy, "why're you crying?"

"I," she choked, leaning into his hand and sniffling, "I'm sorry, I'm just... so happy..."

"Happy? Why?"

"B-because, what you said... you... you don't know how long I've wanted to hear someone tell me I'm a person, with thoughts and feelings, not a tool, or a weapon or a thing meant to do whatever I'm told... you're the first one who ever has... thank you... oh, thank you, Masa..."

Completely blown away by her words for a second, he'd held his breath, everything rushing out at once when he realized she was alright, his shoulders sagging with relief as his hand dropped from her cheek while leaning his forehead against their bundled-up hands, chuckling nervously. "Christ, enough scaring me for one day."

"Sorry," she cooed, getting herself under control and feeling his soft hair as it tumbled over her bared arms, his skin warm to the touch and so inviting to get close to. Her heart ached with want-need, even-so much so it was making her ill.

Masamune gently squeezed her hand between his and his cheek, thanking whatever gods were listening for bringing her back to him.

_No, Katsumi, _she yelled at herself. _Don't fall for him. You can't. He is a lord, you are a rogue. Don't fall in love with him. Don't set yourself up for the hurt you know will come._ Soft, warm breath tickled across their bundles hands as his gentle voice whispered almost to himself, "I'm so glad you're alright."

But she knew it was futile; already her heart was being capture bit-by-bit by this wonderful, complicated, aggrivating young lord of Oshu.

Katsumi leaned forward, giving in to her heart if only enough to ease her pain just enough to be bearable, and lay her cheek on his head, flexing her fingers in his grip to squeeze back, feeling him shift and look up at her, their eyes level, his nose brushing against hers.

_Even if it hurts... even if I can never say... even if I shouldn't be letting this happen... I'm falling in love with you... _Katsumi thought to him, their blue orbs gazing gently into each other; his eye seemed to twinkle, almost knowingly, and she smiled just the tiniest bit.

He grinned back.

"Hey," he said softly.

"Hm?" she hummed back, feeling a little rush at understanding her illicit feelings for her lord.

"Did you call me 'Masa' just a minute ago?"

"Eheh..."


	12. Chapter 11

**originially this was one long-ass chapter with what is now 12, but when it stretched on for 30+ pages, i decided to cut it so everyone wouldn't die reading it. lol. anyway, thank you for reading this far and to those whose reviews kept me going when i was in a muddle! you all get waffles! #### as always, review your thooughts and feelings and tell me how you enjoy the fuzzies X3 AWAY!**

Just as he'd figured, Masamune had snuck out to go check on the rogue woman in the middle of the night even though the doctor had given explicit orders not to disturb her until morning. Kojuro had been staking out this possibility, and had obviously been right, sighing as the younger man snuck off into the castle to take a less obvious route to her room, holding a single lantern as he went. Certainly, Masamune cared about all his retainters, junior and senior alike, but seeing him so single-mindedly focused on a specific person like he was was novel and in a way, interesting to watch, but Kojuro still had his reservations about the woman, which was more now just his refusal to let go and accept her, as he was always wary of outsiders, no matter what, than any legitimate reason to be mistrustful.

But he was going to leave it be and scold his lord in the morning, as it was very late and he himself had just checked on her and found her still out like a light, so there was not much he had to worry about. From his vantage point around the corner from his lord's room, Kojuro had mulled over the possibilities of leaving the two young ones to their own devices for a while until he heard a faint sound as he turned to head to his room down the hall.

Pitter-pat, pitter-pat, pitter-pat.

The padding of little feet was heading right toward him and the sound grew so quickly he didn't have time to get out of the way before-_oomf_-something collided with his back.

Sayuri, ever full of mischievious energy, didn't crash and burn like normal people-in fact, a lot about her wasn't defined by the term "normal". When colliding head-long with an object or person, she didn't let reflected momentum carry her backward, oh no: she actually threw herself forward and attempted to latch onto whatever it is that had gotten in her way to avoid just such an incident. If it happened to be a wall, she usually looked like she'd been splattered against it while waiting for her equilibrium to return.

Naturally, this applied to her current situation. She always preferred to get where she wanted to be as soon as she possibly could, and so she always ran at full speed as often as possible. Which usually resulted in her being plastered to a wall.

This time, however, her reflexes landed her smack around the waist of Katakura Kojuro. Not that she was complaining, he had a very trim, hard body.

"Sayuri," he growled, finding himself once again entangled by her, "what are you doing?" He wondered if this was going to become a trend after what happened with the horses earlier.

"Oh, hi!" she chirped loudly, her neck craned back to look at him. "I wanted to see Katsu! I wonder if she's okay and she's going to be hungry so I made rice balls today and wanted to give them to her because she's been sleeping and she's probably hungry and-"

Kojuro's hand muffled her by covering her blabbering mouth, his scowl deepening. "It is the middle of the night, be silent so others can sleep."

"Shry," she mumbled into his palm, trying to resist licking his hand.

He continued, "You know the doctor told us not to disturb her. If she's awake in the morning, you may see her, but for now you should be sleeping. You don't even have rice balls with you anyway."

She whined, her eyes sparkling sadly.

Those damn, sparkly eyes.

"Are you going to release me soon?"

Sayuri stretched her toes back and let him go, wondering where her _onigiri_ had gone too, she was certain she'd had them when she left her room.

_Splat._

Kojuro felt a tick growing in his left eye as he watched the pile of mush hit the floor; evidently the girl's scramble to keep upright resulted in the leaf-wrapped rice balls getting smashed between their bodies, turning them into an inedible pile of rice muck.

Her little voice cooed, "Found them," as she turned her shining eyes to her feet, not wanting to see if he'd gotten angry or something.

Patience could or could not be one of the Right Eye's best skills depending on his mood, and at the moment he was close to dishing out some verbal punishment for her tomfoolery, but seeing her so tiny and concerned for her friend made him hesitate. Sayuri had the longest, brownest hair he'd ever seen and it always settled right back into place perfectly, no matter how fast she'd been running; straight cut bangs lined her brow, with little fluffy locks hanging by her ears, the rest swaying around her thighs like a second skirt; her face was rounded and soft with little lips that reminded him of cherry buds and a pixie nose under long, dark lashes that framed clear, earthy-shaded irises that were almost dark enough to hide her pupils; sure she didn't have womanly curves yet, but he found that irrelevant, as she was like a tender, soft peach, all round and plush and colorful. She was rather attractive when she was still and silent. He couldn't scold that.

And he was being a dirty old man for thinking such things.

"Return to your room at once," he said instead, feeling heat surging into his face for his degrading thoughts.

Sayuri stayed quiet.

"Sayuri," he growled, seeing her flinch. "You heard me."

"Yup," she muttered, flexing her toes and peering up at him from under her lashes.

"Well then?"

Her cheeks turned rosey. "I'm lost."

Kojuro's palm met his forehead with an audible _smack_.

Morning arrived with a light drizzle that was cool on the skin, the daylight filtering gray through the clouds and into Katsumi's room where she sat up on her bed with her finished breakfast tray, waiting for Haruka to return with the doctor, upset she wasn't allowed to move around but not willing to push her luck this time. Her room was cool this morning so she wrapped herself up in her sleepwear and blanket, looking around to see if there was something she could do. Masamune had left at her insistance the night before, but he made no promise to return right away, which was probably a good thing as her heart was still excited at her late-night revelation and causing her unnecessary aching even while her mind was going ballistic for it.

Okay, so yes, I'm falling hard for him, big deal brain. It's not like I can do anything about it. Sure it'll hurt later, but I think denying it will hurt worse in the end so shut up.

Outside her room, under the patio, Masamune walked, enjoying the cool rain for as long as it lasted. He much preferred cool weather to too hot or too cold, and a little rain always felt good on his skin, especially after or during practice with his swords. He was wanting to see Katsumi again to check on her, but he wondered vaguely if he were being overbearing and it made him pause and look out into the grassy garden that needed to be fixed up, hoping he wasn't being pushy to her. Maybe he was, maybe she was getting tired of his constant presence.

He hoped not.

A brown blur on the adjacent walkway zipped by giggling and he furrowed his brow, wondering, _What the hell was that?_ just as Kojuro appeared right where it had come from, his face flushed as he called out in a low voice, "Sayuri, I told you to be silent! It's too early for your antics!" as he marched right along behind her, oblivious to the onlooker nearby.

Date just watched it happen, chortling as his friend disappeared, glad there seemed to be a new routine for the mornings that didn't involve work. Then, feeling a little better, he turned to the plain door beside him and knocked softly, hoping she was awake.

"Yes?" a quiet voice answered from within.

He opened the door, still a little nervous about whether she actually enjoyed his company, and was greeted by a smile as bright as sunlight that nearly stopped him in his tracks; instead his step faltered as his body said "Stop" but his brain said "Go" while he shut the door, his chest tightening at seeing how happy she was.

"Lord Masamune," she said, not even attempting to cover her feelings. "I didn't think you would come back so early."

"Why?" he mused, grinning at her and walking over to her bed, only sitting when she moved her feet for him.

"You never said anything. I assumed you'd be busy."

He quirked his brow at her. "_Of course I'm back._ I'm here to keep you company, kind of like you did for me. Why should I promise something that happens naturally for me?"

Katsumi's cheeks lit up and he noticed, enjoying the wash of color on her otherwise porcelain skin. "Right, I'm sorry."

Shrugging, he mused, "_It's alright_," knowing it made her smile more when he showed off his bilingual abilities. Being a lord wasn't all bad in that regard.

"You don't _have_ to stay with me though, lord Masamune. I'll be fine while you work."

She was baiting him and he knew it. _Mind ninja._ "Ha, if you're anything like me-which I'm starting to believe you are-being alone all the time is _shit_. Being used to something doesn't make it _okay_."

Once more, she was awestruck at just how well he understood her, how similar he felt. It was true, that however figurative or literal her isolation was, she hated it, even in its necessity. "You caught me, lord Masamune," she sighed happily.

"I knew I would." Winking playfully, he stood as his attention was drawn to the doorway where Haruka had opened the door without warning, accompanied by a shrivelled little man with Western spectacles.

"Forgive the intrusion, milord and lady," she announced, bowing as the little man shuffled in, totally ignoring her.

"Why you hea?" he chirped, bent and tanned with his arms folded behind his back, his expression screwed into a permanent rendition of a man who couldn't see what was right in front of him, even though he seemed more than able. "I say no come. No come tilla I check ha. Why you hea?"

Masamune laughed nervously. "Hey, doc, sorry, I, uh, couldn't help myself."

"I needa check ha now! Shoo!" The little man waved his hands and the young lord scrambled back as Haruka left the room, feeling that she wasn't needed.

Shuffling backwards was all young Date did though, as he wasn't willing to go anywhere right at the moment, but as the little Chinese man started trying to examine his ward, her bright eyes turned on him, seeming to say, "Either _leave_ or at least _turn around_," and he realized that the exam would require her chest to be exposed. Flustered silently, Date turned on his heel and folded his arms just as his cheeks flushed.

The little doctor knew the young man was still around and so he extricated a large, paper fan from his bag and rounded, whacking Masamune between the shoulders and startling him. "Out! Out! Out!" he barked, smacking the lord until he threw the door open, looked over his shoulder and huffed, "Call me when you're done," before catching one in the face and stepping outside, shutting the door behind him and plopping onto the patio, chin in hand.

"Damn Yao," he muttered crossly.

After a short while, the ancient Chinese doctor shuffled out and politely told young Masamune, "You canna see ha now," before toodling off back to his home in the castletown. When he reentered the room, Date found Katsumi looking tired but better sorted with a pastel blue _kimono_ on, her hair twisted into a messy bun, obviously plagued by her aching chest.

"You know how lucky you are?" he inquired, seeing her smile tightly at him before huffing, laying her hand over her stomach.

"I don't feel very lucky."

He tipped his head, flopping back at the foot of her bed like before and laying his hand on her blanket-covered knee. "Well you are. Or I guess it was your brain that saved you. You were wearing your breastplate under your dress, weren't you?"

Katsumi touched her lip thoughtfully, trying to remember. "Yes, I believe I was."

Date nodded, trying not to get ahead of himself. "Well, it saved your ass. That crazy loud pop that scared the crap out of that Sayuri girl wasn't your chest bone like everyone thought, it was the old leather snapping instead. If you hadn't been wearing it..." Throat working on a swallow, he tried not to show the deep fury that burned within him at the thought.

Katsumi could sense it though and gently ran her fingers down his arm, pulling him out of the dark place he was going to. "I... think I understand. I was lucky, if that's the case."

Shuddering, the young lord took a deep breath and squeezed his eye shut, trying to keep a lid on his temper. "Yeah," he muttered, feeling the tingling sensastion her touch left on his skin.

Knowing a change of subject was in order, the rogue looked over by the wall to think and noticed the trunk that lay there that had the lamp set on it the night before. "Oh," she uttered, causing him to look curiously at her. "That reminds me, why is there a footlocker next to my bed? It wasn't in my room before."

Glad she'd noticed so he could focus elsewhere, Masamune slipped his hand under hers and began drawing light, absent circles on her palm, keeping her pinned there by catching one of her fingers between his and saying a little sheepishly, "Don't think this is weird or anything, but remember when I had some of the guys take your things to you when we were both busted up a few weeks ago?"

The dragon cane she'd used for so long lay propped up against the wardrobe across from her bed, serving as a daily reminder of that time. She looked there now. "Yes, I do."

"Well..." He trailed off, reaching up with his free hand to rub his neck, not looking at her and feeling rather embarrassed about the whole thing. "I, uh, had your measurements taken from them before giving it back."

Katsumi's eyes widened and she bristled for a second before a sharp pain forced her to relax, her reflex to tug away disabled by his light grip on her digits. "W-why?" she blustered, totally confused and finding it rather uncomfortable that he knew her sizes.

"It wasn't because I was curious!" he barked, hoping she wouldn't notice how red his face was getting because that was actually only half-true. "I had 'em sent down to the armory is all."

"The armory? But why?"

His circling on her palm ceased, his face growing hotter by the second. "I..."-he cleared his throat-"I had some armor made for you."

Katsumi deflated, completely forgetting about their linked hands for once. "Lord Masamune, _why_?"

"Because I saw you running around in that mismatched junk pile and believe me, I'm kind of an expert on these things, I could just _see_ that it was too bulky and heavy for your body, plus it was old and wouldn't do any damn good in close combat and all I could think was that I couldn't let you run around looking like a big target every time we went into battle!" Completely turned away from her, Katsumi couldn't see his indignant, _tsundere _embarrassment and that was perfectly fine to him because he felt on-the-spot, hoping he didn't come off as some kind of creep.

But that was the farthest thing from Katsumi's mind at the moment. In actuality, she was flattered and surprised but mostly shocked at his thoughtfulness, having not expected something like that at all. Yes, it seemed rather creepy at first, but knowing he wasn't lying to her about his reasons, it was quickly replaced by affectionate surprise, her face flushing until she resembled a cherry blossom as she touched her mouth, trying to not make a strange sound as she tried to comprehend exactly what had driven him to do something so grandiose, let alone why. Then she realized she needed to say something to let him know she wasn't put off by his thoughtfulness so she stammered a small "Thank you" and watched him relax a bit, still oblivious to their linked hands.

"You can try it on when you get better," he muttered, hearing footsteps on the patio outside.

The door opened and they reflexively separated, Date standing up and folding his hands into his sleeves, Katsumi stretching her legs out and trying to sit straight as Kojuro appeared, looking disgruntled with a wiggling Sayuri under his arm, hanging like a duffle bag. "Lord Masamune, miss Katsumi," he greeted gruffly while entering and sliding the door shut before setting the whining girl on her feet and riveting his distasteful gaze on her so that she remained rooted to the spot.

"Kojuro," Date acknowledged, almost afraid to ask what was going on.

Katsumi saved him from having to. "What's wrong?"

Not daring to take his eyes off the troublemaking girl, he seethed, "What I care to know, miss Katsumi, is what in the world possessed you to bring this child here? Uprooting her from her family on a whim?"

Sayuri looked away from him and squealed, "Katsu, he's scary!" while pointing at him before running over and jumping onto the woman's bed and slipping between her friend and the wall, trying to hide.

Masamune watched the exchange quietly, wondering what the hell was wrong with this kid.

Sighing and wincing, Katsumi put her hand on the girl's head and stated, "By a stroke of luck, I happened to come across Sayuri's family and as she has certain talents I'd be a fool to neglect, I merely negotiated a job for her so she could help her family who was struggling with money."

"You hired a child to do adult's work?" the second asked, incredulous.

She shook her head, pinching between her eyes. "You miss the point, Kojuro. I already explained to you that I need a garden to maintain a steady supply of herbs, and after considering the importance of it, I realized I couldn't rely on just anyone to care for it. I wouldn't want to ask you when you're always so busy with other things and if you were away on campaign it would defeat the purpose. Sayuri is here because of that."

"To do your work."

"No!" the woman sighed, exhasperated. "I kill plants like plague kills people. If I tried, it'd be a dirt pile all season. Sayuri is the exact opposite. I _recruited_ her as my _apprentice_ because she has a talent."

"A child."

Masamune hid his inappropriate smile behind his fist, turning so the rogue couldn't catch him.

Sayuri poked her head out from behind Katsumi's shoulder, watching the Right Eye with her big, earthy eyes. "Oh, don't worry, Koju, I'm not a kid, I'm twenty-four."

Kojuro's brows rose and Date whirled, coughing, "Say _what_?!" while Katsumi just glanced at her curiously, the least surprised after having met the girl's mother.

Sayuri just giggled, smiling.


	13. Chapter 12

**things get awesome and fuzzy and derpy and everyone will hate me and things will get even more interesting. point being, we're ****_thisclose_**** to reaching transition when the fun times end and the real story picks up :D get ready for the serious female awesomeness from this point on, my dear readers. shit's going to hit the fan.**

As much as he hated it, Katakura Kojuro found himself in a muddle. A big one. He'd learned a big lesson on judging by appearances just today and it left him beside himself with frustration. With Katsumi out-of-commission and not wanting to let the little monster loose on his lord, the Right Eye of the Dragon had inadvertedly offered himself up to supervise Sayuri after she signed her contract-which she did while leaving a little heart next to her name-so she would know where the supplies were because she wanted to make Katsumi happy knowing she was working hard.

He admired her spunk in that regard, but even though she was so enthusiastic about it, all the woman-child was doing was running back and forth over the dead earth and looking like she was enjoying it. This he watched for some time, curious as to what exactly she was doing, but he kept silent until she'd made her way to him, singing under her breath.

"Sayuri," he said, drawing her to a wiggling stop.

"Yuppers?" she answered cheerfully.

"What exactly are you doing?"

"Measuring," she told him matter-of-factly, her tongue poking out between her lips. "When I run like this my stride is always one-and-a-half-meters, so by counting my steps and the number of turns I make I can get an accurate measurement of the field."

Kojuro was taken slightly aback by the simplicity behind her random running around and the somewhat-calmer behavior she exhibited while she was doing so. "I see."

"It's exactly twenty-feet-by-twenty-five, and given borders it'll be reduced to nineteen-by-twenty-four."

He nodded.

Sayuri faced him, a big, kind smile on her face. "Koju, can you show me where the tools are kept so I can start marking everything, please?"

"Oh, yes," he stuttered out, having zoned out while imagining the girl-woman as a little peach; a fault in his thinking caused by watching her do something related to his only other passion, and not something unusual for him. Crossed wires happened a lot when he started thinking of his garden up on the cliffside.

Rising, he held his hand out and helped the little woman onto the patio, once again seeing her hair flutter back perfectly into place. He much prefered this calm Sayuri to the ball of energy he'd chased throughout the castle just that morning; however, as he'd feared, her calmness didn't last long as she started skipping along behind him, gaining speed until she was quite literally skipping circles around him.

"Stop," he told her, halting at a door just down the west hallway.

She balanced on one foot in front of him, holding her forefingers to the sides of her mouth and grinning up at him with her eyes squeezed shut, innocent as a young child. "Smile, Kojuro. Smiles make everything better."

"What is there to make better?" he inquired, opening the closet that held some spare tools used for the inner gardens.

"Everything can be made better!" she chirped, opening her shining eyes and looking right into his. "You look like you're stressed and you always frown. If you smiled more you'd be really handsome!"

He grunted in surprise, his cheeks turning pink at such forwardness, wondering if she understood what she'd meant.

Completely blanking after that, Sayuri grabbed up a couple of the tilling tools and a rake and started walking back to the garden, still singing her nonsense song, oblivious to his reaction. Thinking about how odd she was, Kojuro shut the closet and followed, taking his position back on the patio edge to watch her work, determined to leave her to her job and see this so-called "talent" Katsumi claimed she had.

Which was proving difficult to do.

Sayuri pick up the trowel to start breaking the soil up so she could fill in the dry pond and level everything, but when she swung it down it barely punctured the ground and when she tugged it slipped out, so she tried again, got it caught on a rock and fell on her butt with a little _oof_. Shaking his head, Kojuro got up and walked over, picking her up by her arm and wondering, "What are you trying to do?"

"I'm... plowing," she murmured, embarrassed.

"Then why is it being so difficult? Don't you have a garden at home?"

"Oh, well, yes," the girl-woman cooed, feeling his grip loosen and slip away, hiding her mouth behind her hands. "But... well, my dad always tilled the ground for me and my mom helped me plant. I'm not used to doing it by myself."

"Then why not ask for help?"

She brightened, looking up at him. "Would you? Katsu told me you work the fields a lot!"

"I do," he affirmed, feeling his lips turn up at the edges, also preferring this cheerful outlet as opposed to her hyper-activity. "I can assist you."

"Thank you, Koju!"

His eye ticked. "Kojuro. Actually, it would be master Katakura to you."

"Taku-sama," she replied, beginning to bounce in place.

"No," he growled, knowing the moment had gone south quickly. "Master Katakura."

She pouted. "But I like Taku-sama. Everyone's name is unique and it's the name you make friends and enemies with, but sharing one name with everyone makes it less special than if each person has a unique name known only to one other person. It makes that bond special, more than being known to everyone by the same thing. Bonds are special, and when I like people, I give them a special name because I want our bond to be special, too."

That made sense... sort of. But once again, he was taken aback and unable to speak as she jumped onto the patio and took off, calling, "I gotta go find an irrigator now!" and he snapped out of it, taking the short step up onto the porch and jogging after her.

"Sayuri, this hallway leads to the barracks, get back here!"

That evening found young Date helping Katsumi to sit in the green garden where they'd had their first heart-to-heart, the sky bright with twilight flames, her breath harsh as she worked through the pain and leaned her shoulder against one of the pillars, his hands gentle at her back and on her upper arm, lingering as he sat beside her, much closer than he usually was, concern plain in his features. "Hey?" he murmured to her, but she held her hand up, puffing.

"I'm alright. Just trying to figure out how to be comfortable."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. The painkillers will kick in soon."

He hummed, looking at how the sky was reflected in the pond, making it seem as if a piece of the heavens had fallen right there on earth, it's pinks and oranges bright against the golden-washed green around it, the flowers swaying in the soft wind that curled by. Surely, if not for Katsumi's pain, this would be perfect.

Her luscious hair cascaded down her back and over his hand, thick and soft and perfectly straight now that it wasn't bound into a tight braid, a light perfume wafting from it that reminded him of flowers and honey, his thoughts wandering vaguely to whether she tasted as sweet as she smelled. He caught himself, shaking his head a bit to shake off the stray thoughts, knowing it was inappropriate when they hardly knew anything about each other-odd when one considers how long she'd worked with him now. Then again, they hadn't had much time to talk either.

But they did now.

"You look upset," he remarked quietly, gently brushing some of her bangs away so he could see the golden reflection of the sun in her eyes, knowing she was far away and wanting her to come back; oddly enough, he found himself seating her on his right when he only ever did that with Kojuro, though it provided the perfect excuse for him to be facing her directly constantly. He enjoyed looking at her, her graceful form and silent beauty that made him think of a cat, so balanced and well-tuned to her own body.

"Oh," she muttered, coming out of her thoughts and repressing a shiver; he was so close she could feel his breath on her cheek. "I was just thinking about how ridiculous I am."

"Ridiculous? What do you mean?"

"I mean," she laughed humorlessly, her smile pained, "it's pathetic how every fight I get into, no matter how hard I try, I always mess up and get hurt. It's inevitable. I'll be part of any campaign you orchestrate, but with what's been happening lately I'll just be a detriment, not an asset. Twice now I've been hurt because I-"

Masamune's hand clamped over her mouth and he growled, "Shut up," which effectively cut her off, her eyes wide as she tried to turn her head toward him. "Look, being hard on yourself won't do you any good. How many times do we have to have this talk, Katsumi?" His brows were drawn together, betraying that he was mildly annoyed. "All you lack is experience. Fighting instinct and skill comes when you develope them, just like physical strength and perfect aim. Getting into skirmishes, getting hurt and recovering make you stronger because if you want to be good, you learn from them. You figure out what you did right and wrong and roll with it. Getting upset when you get beat up is stupid because it keeps you from moving forward and you'll keep sucking and getting hurt because you didn't try to fix it. _You see_?"

Taking his hand away, Masamune saw her expression lighten as she absorbed what he said, glad he could give it to her straight and know she wouldn't go nuclear because of his words; he hated sugar-coating everything because of how damn sensitive women were. It made him feel stupid.

This time, Katsumi's smile was genuine. "Yes, I see. You're right, lord Masamune, I'm sorry. I'm just sick of it."

"Hey, I've been there. It's kinda like a phase. It'll end eventually."

"Yes..."

"If you ever want to spar when you get better, just let me know, I'll always be game."

She giggled. "Thank you. I'll remember that."

"And if it's any consolation," he went on softly, leaning forward a little, her scent becoming rather intoxicating at this distance, their faces hardly centimeters away as he looked into her fiery orbs deeply, wanting to see right through her and know everything about her, almost dying of curiosity now that he'd thought about the fact he knew little more about her than her stubbornness and palpable Oda-hate, his lips barely moving and dragging his words into a quiet murmur only she could hear, "you're probably the toughest woman I've ever met."

Katsumi's heart pounded painfully, but for once, she didn't care, her lips parting as she tried to breathe past his heavy, earthy, masculine scent that made her think of the forest she grew up wandering and leather, probably from wearing his armor for many years, denoting his maturity though he sometimes acted half his age. It was a wonderful, strong smell that suited him and made her want to bury her face in his neck and take a deep breath to burn that smell into her memory, but she was captivated by that one, mesmerizing, amazing eye of his; one eye that seemed to do the talking for two, his gaze a complicated, deep mixture of memories and emotions and thoughts she wanted to slowly take apart and understand. She wanted to know him. Needed to.

Those parted lips caught his attention and robbed him of his reason for a moment, and before he knew it he'd reached across her to cover her hand with his, her breath fresh and sweet as she breathed against his own, a little gasp slipping through as he moved closer, wanting to feel those pink lips on his; wanting to taste her, to know if she was really as sweet as she smelled; _needing_ to before he went crazy with it. Katsumi wanted the same, was practically screaming in her head at him, wanting him to kiss her, to let her know if maybe her feelings weren't one-sided after all.

And he did.

Almost.

Movement made him pause, his attention moving to their linked hands where a horrid terror lingered, approaching leisurely. "Don't move," he hissed, feeling her freeze up while he continued to watch the monster that creeped around, only inches away from their hands. Knowing her habit by now, Masamune reached into her sleeve, his fingers brushing the deliciously tender skin of her forearm before finding the flat, cool face of a throwing knife and pinching it between his middle and ring fingers, moving slowly and trying to be subtle, unaware of the kind of sweet torture he was subjecting poor Katsumi too; she felt drunk from over-exposure to him, her mind beginning to wander.

Folding the knife into his palm, Masamune lifted it slowly and she came to, turning her head when he suddenly grunted and brought the small blade down with blinding speed, stabbing it through the intruder and splitting it nicely in two. There, now dead as a doornail, was one of the monstrocities found throughout the country: the Japanese Giant Hornet-and it had been close to giving Katsumi a nasty little surprise if she'd moved, so his grip on her had actually saved her from a horrid and possibly lethal sting.

"God!" she breathed, deflating and feeling dizzy as she slumped painfully against him, feeling his body jerk as he removed the knife from the floor.

"That was too damn close," the lord muttered under his breath, reaching up and lacing his fingers against her head as she tried to remain calm. "Little bastards. Used to use 'em as target practice when I was little."

She shook her head. "You're crazy!"

He grinned. "Yeah, and?"

Feeling completely ridiculous for thinking they'd been about to kiss, Katsumi lay in her bed that night, one arm over her face as she replayed those intense moments over and over again in her mind. Surely he'd only done what he did because he'd noticed the hornet and didn't want her to panic and startle it; even so, if getting nearly stung by a hornet is all it took to get that close to him, she'd gladly do it again.

_I'm crazy_, she thought sadly. _Why would he kiss me? We barely know each other and I have nothing to offer him. I'm not strong, not from a noble family... I'm nothing. What man in his right mind would want that? Unless he's crazy too, which wouldn't surprise me._ Katsumi sighed, sliding her arm off her face.

What a cruel existence she'd put herself into.

Morning came with sunshine instead of clouds and greeted the Yonezawa household with a promise of warmth. Doctor Yao came and went, having given the woman a sleeping draught because her pain had kept her up most of the night wanting to turn over but unable to; so too, did Date arrive and depart upon finding her asleep. He'd wanted to spend a little time with her before he began his day, but when she didn't answer his knocking he slid the panel-door open and peeked in. Everything was still and clean, the only giveaway that she was even there being her oil-black hair tumbling over the side of her bed; most people would leave the poor girl to sleep, but Masamune was not most people and so he slipped in and shut the door quietly, stealing over to her bedside and looking down at her.

Once again he was struck with just how serenely beautiful she was, even when sleeping with her hair in tangles; Katsumi had long eyeslashes as black as her hair and her eyelids were a flushed, rosy pink just like her cheeks-he'd stooped down to notice that little detail, unable to help himself-and her lips were parted as she breathed, her chest rising and falling steadily under the white blanket. Absently, his hand came down and cupped her face, her skin warm to the touch and so very soft; it was almost shocking to see how delicate she was, how his palm could cover most of her cheek by itself, and think that this young woman had been in battle, had suffered hardships and fought to survive for half her life, was able to fight and outthink most of the people he knew. It was surreal.

Perhaps that's why he was so drawn to her, never mind how damn gorgeous she was. She was different, tough, willing to do her part rather than sit pretty and do what she was told. He'd gotten so used to that growing up it made him sick to think his parents had expected him to marry someone like that; though somewhere inside he felt his father would much prefer Katsumi over the pussywillows his mother prefered. Certainly if he had a say, he'd choose the rogue-turned-ally over a simple noblewoman. She was smart, worldly, she had depth to her soul and her heart was stronger than anyone else's he'd ever met. Not to mention she was absolutely captivating, and understanding-usually-so he found himself unwinding his personal barriers to bring her closer. So many times he'd caught himself giving away his thoughts and feelings to this woman when only Kojuro could be privvy to know what was actually going through that one-track mind of his.

He trusted her. And Masamune knew in his gut she trusted him, even though they hadn't been together for very long. Leaving Kojuro as the only real problem, as his Right Eye's opinion had always mattered greatly to him, and he was thankful Kojuro spoke his mind. The attempted suicide, though, was another matter entirely, which made him thankful for Katsumi as well for being able to bitch at him without wanting to off herself for it.

Perhaps one day soon, the three of them could all get along normally, but knowing his second-in-command like he did, that day was far from coming. Until then, he would have to bide his time and help show the stubborn mule that Katsumi was truly on their side; he walked a precarious line between the two most important people in his life now, one he'd grown up admiring and respecting, the other coming in like a storm, swift and sudden with no warning, and leaving her mark on his heart like a bolt of lightning on the earth. The strain on his nerves was getting unbearable because he _wanted_ desperately to have the mysterious woman in his arms, close and warm and safe from harm; to taste her and mark her and make her his own so no other man could touch her. But he couldn't because disappointing the man who'd taken better care of him than his own family was something his heart also couldn't bear, and for the life of him he couldn't decide which was stronger: his desire for Katsumi or his need to make Kojuro proud of him.

Dammit all.

Watching her wasn't improving his ability to think straight either, and the young lord found himself leaning in, wanting to kiss her in the hopes it might ease his neediness a bit; it was too tempting, he wanted to, her breath was warm and sweet and slightly minty from the draught she'd been given and it was getting him drunk-in the vaugest sense of the term-from overexposure; she smelled so damn _good_. Sense took a holiday on him and he knelt on the edge of her bed, the hand he'd touched her face with now sliding gently down her neck, revealing she was soft and warm everywhere, and he bent his face closer to hers, hovering just centimeters above those lush lips of hers, waiting to see if she woke up at all. But she didn't, so he closed in until their lips touched just the faintest bit. Masamune froze.

He couldn't.

There was no way he could just steal a kiss. He wasn't that kind of person. No, if he was going to kiss her he was going to do it properly, when she was awake and had the option of stopping him if she didn't want it; he was raised better than that.

Masamune backed away slowly, trying to clear his head and get control of himself and not let his desires get the better of his common sense. Reaching into his robe, he pulled out the little paper bundle he'd found while in town during the weeks Katsumi had been away, having not had a decent chance to give to her yet. He moved over to the trunk by her bedbox and lay it on top, the characters for her name printed on one corner so she would know it was meant for her and not left by accident, and then he left before he could lose his mind again.

Katsumi awoke sometime in the early afternoon and found water and some rice balls on a tray at her bedside which she picked up and ate carefully, her ribs still aching and stinging and being a general nuisance. Groggily, she looked around, wondering what time it was and if she should even bother to get out of bed; chewing slowly, Katsumi swallowed as she saw a little brown package sitting by its lonesome on her armor trunk, unable to make out the smudge in the corner from where she was. Leaning, she stretched her arm out to grab it and hissed, hand flying to her side as her ribs protested against the strain, but she wanted to know what that thing was so she sucked in a breath and reached again, snagging the twine that tied it with the tips of her fingers and yanking it into her lap while moving back into a comfortable-ish position, groaning in pain.

The smudge in the corner turned out to be her name, written in a very bold print that made her think of a particular person; suddenly, she could swear she could smell the leather-and-man scent she'd inhaled the night before lingering around her bed, but she shook her head, thinking she was just having a memory-smell like she sometimes got when thinking of her family, the acrid tang of smoke haunting her nostrils as the visions came and went.

Like now.

_The man in silver armor with his head thrown back, laughing as fire burned around him, bodies littering the ground, men, women, children, pets..._

Katsumi shook herself, regretted it, then shivered, hugging herself as the horrid sight came and went, the package dropping softly into her lap. _God damn! _she shrieked to herself, feeling hot tears in her eyes as the lingering images burned themselves into the backs of her eyelids. _Who the devil was that? Did he do all of that?_ Once more she found herself on a tirade about why she was plagued by such sights, her heart pounding; just the sight of that man instilled rage and fear in her, blended together so completely as to be inseperable and making her stomach knot sickly. _Just visions of him are horrendous. I hope I never meet him._

Wanting to distract herself, Katsumi focused on the little package in her lap, tracing the _kanji_ with her fingertips and wondering whether she should open it now; it was thin and light but the contents felt stiff, one side bulging out slightly, making her wonder what it was. Curiosity got the better of her, so she tugged on the twine and heard the paper crinkle as she pulled it away, letting the string drop into the empty food tray below before carefully unfolding the corners, treating it like ripping the paper would be an unforgivable offense.

There in her lap was a comb. But not just a plain comb like normal women used; no, this one was beautiful. It was wood of course, but painted with swirling sapphire, black and silver enamel that made it look like it was carved out of marble or agate, the teeth thin and spaced apart to accomodate thick hair, which is what she had; if that weren't beautiful enough, the buldge had been caused by the carved lotus that took up the upper-right-hand side of the comb's face, the many delicate petals arching upward around the open middle, big enough to fit in her palm but detailed enough to look as if it were a true lotus doused in paint and not a carving. Peering closer at it, her eyes widened as she found nestled in the heart of the flower, enclosed by the many, many needle-like petals, was a pale blue moonstone that seemed to glow milky colors in the golden afternoon sunshine.

Who on earth had given her such a gift and why?

Lifting it reverently and turning it over to feel the smooth, glossy surface, she was almost afraid to leave fingerprints on it; that's when she noticed the writing on the paper underneath the comb.

_This proabably seems like a stupid peace offering_, it read, a distinctive voice in her head ringing about as she slowly read each character, _but I hope it helps you know I really am sorry for being an idiot. _The next line the handwriting altered just a tiny bit, making her wonder if it was added later on. _I've noticed your hair getting messy lately. Probably a dumb observation, but it got me thinking this wasn't such a stupid idea after all. This probably sounds weird coming from me, but you have really amazing hair and it's a shame to see it getting all tangled like it is when it's not all braided up._

_Get well soon. You owe me a sparring match._

_Masamune._

A smile found its way onto her lips as she read, shaking her head slightly and feeling her heart lift a little bit. He was so straightforward and honest, just like a _samurai_ should be, and it was always a relief since as a woman she often got short-sided by men who wanted to spare her the awful details and the painful truth because they thought her too delicate to handle it. Once more, she was amazed at his observational abilities to be able to decipher that she didn't own a comb or brush of her own because it was a useless waste of space when she only had so much room on her to carry things, hence why she kept her hair tightly braided for so long: it minimized the need to brush and helped it grow out faster, maximizing her reach when she needed to clobber someone with her stone ring.

Heart pounding at being reminded one of the reasons she was falling for him-his ability to understand her without being told-she let her eyes trace the characters for his name; just his first name, no family name, no title, just from Masamune to Katsumi, person to person, not master to servant.

Equals.

Holding the precious comb to her heart for a moment, she tucked the note into the nook between her mattress and the wall and debated using the comb for a moment when there was a knock on her door. Jolting, she slipped the comb under her blanket and said, "Come in," only mildly surprised to find it was Kojuro.

"Ah, I'm glad you're awake this time," he commented, shutting the door behind himself.

"Oh, really?" she mused sarcastically, unable to help herself and seeing his usual frown deepen irritably. "Sorry, force of habit."

He brushed it off. "I've come by several times today to find you still sleeping so I began to think you wouldn't be up until tonight."

She quirked her brow. "Why? Do you need something?"

He nodded, lifting his hand to reveal he was carrying a piece of parchment and a charcoal stick. "In the confusion and chaos, we've compeltely forgotten to debrief you about your jaunt to the country. You're obliged to share anything you deem necessary."

"Ah, well, that shouldn't take long," she sighed. "Everything ended up being a dead end. All I learned for certain was that the group is a bunch of mercenaries that call themselves the Saica Renegades and that they've undergone a change of leadership recently after Oda,"-the Devil King's name came out in a nasty growl that didn't go unnoticed-"killed their original leader, which is why they have it in for him. That's seriously the only consistent information I've gotten; everything else ended up being rumors people made up."

"Alright, that's all I needed to know." Kojuro scribbled down what she'd said and folded the paper twice over into a square before tucking into a pocket in his coat with the charcoal stick and then knelt to pick up the empty tray she'd left at the foot of her bed.

"Oh, you don't have to take that," she began, wondering why he was being so nice.

"It's fine, I'm going by the kitchen anyway."

"Thank you."

He nodded and turned to leave, hand on the door when a thought came to Katsumi's mind.

"Did Sayuri give you a break or did you tie her up to give yourself the time to come see me?"

He flinched, freezing.

Katsumi quirked her brow, grinning. "You tied her up, didn't you?"

"I did no such thing!" he denied hurriedly, cheeks flaming up as he refused to face her. "I merely left her to work on the garden she's been put in charge of as it seems to occupy her insane mind for some time."

"You're being nice because you're beginning to like me more than her, aren't you?"

He blanched and remained silent.

"You had no idea what you were signing up for when you decided to play babysitter, did you?"

Kojuro's head inclined and his shoulders slumped. "No," he admitted gruffly, "I did not. I've never met anyone with so much energy before. She doesn't listen, doesn't sit still, she's loud and doesn't act her age at all."

Katsumi tapped her lip, thinking. "Did you ever consider why she acts that way?"

Kojuro turned and looked over his shoulder, his brows furrowed; no, he hadn't considered why. At least not seriously. "Because she need medication?"

The woman laughed and then coughed painfully as her ribs played the revenge card. "Ow... no. Well, yes, I suppose she does, but that's not it. I spent days walking with her back here to Yonezawa. I got to see how she behaves and when we talked I got to understand how she thinks. She may be a grown woman, but she still sees the world with the eyes of a child; show her a meadow and she sees a huge field of flowers, give her a set of chopsticks and suddenly she has tiny knives, let her loose in a barren patch of land and she sees a blooming garden. Her imagination is immense and she doesn't let initial appearances affect her perceptions of people and places.

"We stopped in a tea house along the road and she struck up conversation with a shady bohemoth in the corner while I wasn't looking. I worried for her safety but she got him to laugh, and when she bumped the table of a lesser, respactable-looking lord and spilled his tea he got up and demanded she either pay to replace the ridiculously expensive robe he was wearing or have her feet cut off so she couldn't bump tables anymore.

"The man she'd talked to before stood up and defended her right alongside me. He ended up being a really nice guy and Sayuri instinctively knew that."

Kojuro was astounded.

She went on, "And also, when you have to spend long amounts of time with her, her energy starts to rub off on you. Sayuri _enjoys_"-this she couldn't emphasize more-"seeing other people enjoy life."

"I enjoy life," Kojuro cut in. "I am not afraid to die, but never once have I thought of dying." He paused, knowing that wasn't necessarily true, so he amneded, "Outside certain circumstances of course."

She laughed softly but humorlessly, shaking her head. "Not dying and enjoying life aren't the same, Kojuro. Sayuri knows this. To her, getting people to _loosen up_ and _have fun_," this was meant specifically for him, "is best done by showing them how much fun she has, kind of like monkey-see-monkey-do. If she has fun, other people will start to have fun too. And it works. I never laughed so much in my life at one time than I did on the road with her. We played games, had funny conversations and just enjoyed our time instead of worrying about everything. She's happy when others around her are happy. _You_," she raised her brows for emphasis, "don't exactly scream 'fun'. For her, you're a challenge, and she bothers you and causes you trouble because she wants you to have fun. Get it?"

Now that was food for thought. Nodding, Kojuro quietly said, "Yes, I believe I do," before leaving, lost in his mind and it's vast network of thought tracks.

Alone once again, Katsumi pulled the little comb out, smiled, and began to carefully brush her hair, loosing herself in a fantasy.

Evening came swiftly, the sun beginning to set as Katsumi, hair shining and brushed and fanned out around her, sat in the training yard and enjoyed the twilight, her favorite time of day. Before her, the biggest distraction in the field, was Date whom was practicing his basic swordskills, his blade flashing, his movements precise and controlled, his face creased in concentration as he struck down imaginary enemies over and over; unbeknownst to her, the Dragon was showing off slightly and the enemies he fought happened to be the three goons that had caused her grief the few days before derriving a kind of sick enjoyment out of seeing them die over and again in his mind. Kojuro waited off to one side, as he usually did, awaiting any call to spar with his lord, when he heard the faint sound of the guards as the gate shouting.

He turned and stopped dead.

Masamune felt his discomfort, even from several yards away, and lowered his _katana_, brows furrowing; he looked over and bristled in confusion.

Katsumi noticed this and followed his sight, her mouth falling open when she saw the stranger approaching from the gate.

A woman, tall, beautiful and slender with short, red-blond hair, tight and somewhat-inappropriate clothes and a confident smirk across her distinctively-foreign features with a large contraption on her back wrapped in white cloth, strode easily across the stone walkway, striaght to the trio, pausing several feet away and cocking her hip out, laying one hand on it while the other rested over her shoulder, keeping the whats-it in place and taking a deep breath. "Hey," she called in a strong, femininely-low voice, glancing between the three of them, "I'm looking for the One-Eyed Dragon."

Kojuro moved to block her path from Masamune instinctively, but the younger man came forward, hand gripping his blade tightly but easily, trying not to seem like an unnecessary threat, his one eye narrowing suspiciously. "That would be me. What d'you want?"

"Lord Masamune," Kojuro chided quietly, sharing a quick glance with each other.

"Don't worry," the woman called easily, setting the thing down with a loud _thud_ and flipping her hair out of her face as she did so, "I'm not here to fight or anything. I've gotten into a bit of trouble and need a place to hide out for a while."

"Right," the younger man drawled, getting defensive. "Why should I let you?"

"Because I hear you're currently unaligned with the Devil King."

Katsumi shot up in a hurry. Blood rushed from her head and spots danced in front of her eyes and she staggered, her ribs flexing and making her gasp sharply. _She knows Oda?!_

Both men cast a glance at her, stabs of worry hitting them both, but they didn't want to move from this woman just yet; Katsumi sensed this and waved her hand to let them know she was alright.

"Oshu," Kojuro cut in, hand going to his own _katana_, Kokuryu, his gaze fierce enough to set her expression flickering, "never allies itself with anyone. State your name and your business clearly, woman."

"Oh, right, right," she mused, waving her hand casually. "Sorry. Guess it'll help clear this up. My name is Magoichi Saica of the Saica Army and I need a place to hide out where Oda's men won't find me."


	14. Chapter 13

Katsumi pushed away from the patio, trying to keep her breath steady as hate reared its ugly head in her heart, making a single-minded path toward this woman named Magoichi Saica; nevermind that she claimed to be connected to the group Katsumi had been tracking, she was now interested more in her connection to Oda, so much so she walked right by both Masamune and Kojuro despited their hissed warnings and commands to stay back. Saica stood completely still, her copper hair ruffling in the breeze, watching the smaller, black-haired young woman that approached her. Their eyes had met, even over the distance, and in doing they, both woman felt a mutual connection, something that said plainly, "I know how you feel," and that is was rooted them to the ground, barely three feet from each other.

Blue stared into green intensely, reading each other, sharing silent words in that way women have-a way remotely similar to how Kojuro and Masamune often communicated, only without the gestures. Saica could see in this stranger's eyes a deep-seated, smoldering hate that possibly surpassed even her own, an intensity that made the woman's rainy eyes flash as if lightning was within them; likewise, Katsumi could see determination, anger and drive in this Saica woman, burning beneath a sea of calm confidence, her feelings carefully regulated and channeled into her aura, making her an intimidating figure indeed. Her face, once lapsed into impassivity, now bore a crooked, sly smirk, one befitting of Magoichi Saica, miss calm-cool-and-collected herself, that was quickly reflected fully in the dark-haired girl in front of her as the two reached a silent understanding.

Bowing as much as she could manage, Katsumi folded her hands against her thighs and said, "Welcome, miss Magoichi."

"Just Saica is fine," the woman replied, picking her thing up and walking behind Katsumi as she turned gracefully and began heading toward the main building.

Kojuro's mouth opened in shock and Date made an exceedingly loud, "EH?!" as the women passed, so Katsumi-falling into her dark place-rounded, setting her jaw against the constant moving around that her ribs continued to complain about, and said smoothely as a red-hot, orange-yellow blip triggered her awareness, "I have business to discuss with miss Saica. Intelligence business," she specified, which more or less told them to "back off, I've got this" and halted their arguments. If she was going to play her contract card, she must've had a reason.

Kojuro, being the closest, could feel an odd heat coming from where the women stood, like someone had left the embers of a fire smoldering, the cool twilight making it only more palpable, and to him, the usual electrical energy within the rogue had heated up, burning more like a fire than striking like a bolt of lightning; he didn't approach.

Masamune could feel the aura around the women all too well, but instead of thinking about why this energy was around, his mind instantly focused on the way Katsumi's eyes had darkened; he was worried and his heart was pounding so hard it was beginning to ache as he watched the woman he cared for slip behind her years of solitary confinement, her walls breaking the surface as she undoubtedly felt the ghosts of painful things he didn't know about. He took an unconscious step forward but stopped short as Katsumi's broken eyes turned onto him and he saw, once again, that dreadful, broken, hurtful no-light in her beautiful reflections, his breath getting caught in his throat.

After a long second, she turned away from him and spoke to Saica plainly, "Please come with me, there is something I wish to dicuss with you," before leaving them and taking her sorrow with her.

That was the first time either of the men had seen so plainly how much Oda Nobunaga's existence affected her, and it was almost terrifying.

Just that moment, a very dirty Sayuri made her appearance from one of the hallways that led into the castle as the other two deigned to use the one that went deeper into the living quarters, her cheerfullness multiplying when she saw Katsumi. "Katsu! Katsu!" she called, running down the patio at a third her normal speed. "Come see what I made in the garden!"

"Later," the rogue stated plainly, stopping the girl cold.

"Huh?" Sayuri then took notice of the new girl following her friend who spared the tiny woman a friendly, passing smile before they disappeared inside. She wanted to follow, asking, "Katsu, what's-?" before Kojuro's voice cut in.

"Stop."

She froze, turning huge, worried, hurt eyes on him that made the Right Eye's own heart ache from just seeing them. "But, but... _why_? What's wrong with Katsu...?"

He didn't want to lie, but if Katsumi hadn't told her little apprentice anything, he knew it was not his place to do it for her, so he approached her as clouds began to gather overhead quickly and the wind became colder, looking down at her with what he hoped was a gentle gaze and laying his hand on the midget-woman's head, ignoring the dust he kicked up in doing so. "Nothing is, she's just very busy, Sayuri. Do not worry, she isn't mad at you." He saw the girl-woman sigh softly, denoting that she'd been thinking just that. "Why don't you show me what it is you've put together?"

Smiling and trying to shed her hurt, Sayuri took his hand with both of hers, spun around and chirped, "It's so cool, I just tested it and it works great, now we won't have to worry about stepping on the beds and everything will get watered and maybe you could help me get some fertilizer for the soil? It needs to get all worked in there and watered down..."

Her voice trailed away as the pair left-one at a brisk trot, the other at a quick, long-strided walk-the same way she'd first come in, leaving the boy lord by himself. That was perfectly fine for him, honestly, he was just caught up in the afterburn of once again seeing that awful look. Tipping his head back, Masamune felt the first light drops of rain against his face, his _katana_ blade hanging limply in his hand and almost touching the ground, his breath deliberately slow and deep as he stood there in the rain, completely lost in himself and his feelings.

"Dammit, Katsumi."

"Simply put, Oda killed the original Saika, my mentor-slash-father-figure, and so I've got a bit of a grudge going for him."

"I understand all too well."

Magoichi Saica and Reiko Katsumi sat in the latter's room, one sprawled on the floor, the other sitting on her legs like a typical Japanese woman did, her hands tucked in her lap to make their tense squeezing less noticable. As the empty wing hand't been cleaned out quite yet, there was no formal debriefing room of any kind, so they'd settled for as private as they could get, Saica's wrapped-up whats-it leaning on the wall between Katsumi's wardrobe and footlocker, out of reach as it were. But that was fine, as the women had both felt an immediate trust forge between them and so leaving weapons out of arm's reach felt perfectly normal to them.

"Care to elaborate, any?" Saica inquired, arms folded over her chest as she leaned against the panel where Katsumi's bed was hidden; incidently, the dark-haired woman had discovered that because her bed was set into the wall itself, a sliding panel that looked indentical to the wall could be pulled out to turn it into a kind of hidey-hole when privacy or necessity loomed.

Katsumi inclined her head, biting her lip; memories danced in her mind, both good and bad. "Oda Nobunaga took my family away from me. I merely wish to take his life away as reconciliation."

"Ah, I see," Saica murmured, nodding once. "That kind of hate, huh?"

"Yes," Katusmi whispered, swallowing the lump forming in her throat.

"So why haven't you killed him yourself yet? You're a _shinobi_, aren't you?"

"Sort of," she admitted weakly, giving the woman an "almost-but-not-quite" look. "I'm not formally trained. Everything I can do I either learned myself or was taught to me by my family."

"Seriously?" The taller woman whistled. "Look out, we got a badass over here."

Katsumi giggled despite her depressing inner state. "Thank you, but I'm not that good. I specialize in running, hiding and eavesdropping, not fighting."

"That can be fixed though, if you've got the drive."

"I have the drive," she ventured, twisting her fingers, "but I lack anyone willing and able to help me. Lord Masamune and Kojuro are both far too busy to be bothered with my asking, and yes, lord Masamune offered to spar with me but I'm not nearly capable of going toe-to-toe with him."

"I see, I see," Saica hummed, thinking. "Alright, fair enough. So then what's our plan here? I mean, I hate to be a bother, but as much as I feel my boys can do anything, even I wouldn't put them against a whole force of Oda soldiers head-on. That's why I'm here. We were getting overrun and the guys got me out and set me on the road so I'd be safe, telling me as long as I was alive, they'd find me, even when Oda couldn't. As long as I have my head, the Saica Army will live strong and keep giving that bastard hell."

A feral smile made its way onto Katsumi's face, twisting her natural beauty into something... ugly. "That's all I ask for. In exchange, you may stay here under my authority for as long as you need."

"Well, alright then," Saica mused, holding her fist up and waiting until the other woman caught on and they bumed knuckles lightly. "But who're you to call the shots? I thought dragon boy was the one in charge?"

"He is, but you're now officially being hosted by the Date intelligence corps., not lord Masamune himself. I have full jurisdiction of my department so he can't say not without due cause."

She whistled again. "Sweet set-up."

"Thank you." A thought popped into Katsumi's mind. "I heard that Magoichi Saica was a cool, forward and formal person, but you're rather laid-back and friendly."

Saica shrugged. "That's my game face. I have an image to keep up, but I like you, you've got a lot of heart, so I feel comfortable being more myself."

"Ah."

"So, where do I sleep then?"

"I'll have Haruka show you when she returns. The girl who greeted us before we entered this room? I sent her off to have one of the spare rooms in the department's wing cleaned and set up for a guest."

"Then I have to say thank you, you're really saving my ass here."

"It's not a problem at all. We Oda-haters have to stick together."

"Indeed we do." With a soft groan, Saica stood up and stretched, watching Katsumi struggle to rise, her breath catching. "You alright?"

"No," the dark-haired woman puffed, hand on her stomach. "I have some bruised ribs from an incident a few days ago and I'm not quite healed yet."

"Ouch."

"Yes..."

Saica thought for a moment, rubbing the side of her nose as Katsumi went to her wardrobe and opened a drawer there, pulling out a small packet and swallowing the contents dry. She was a fair, proud woman and though she didn't want to have to find asylum with someone she didn't know, she wasn't dumb enough to try running headlong into a losing battle and now she owed this young woman for covering her rear. Sadly, there was only one thing she could offer, being a poor mercenary and all, that might cover her new debt. "Guess I owe you," she muttered as the woman came back over, looking weary.

"I told you, it's not a problem."

"Still. I think I have an idea, since I feel like I'm going to be here a while."

Katsumi suddenly wanted to sleep, her aching sides calling for rest, but she still muttered, "Oh?"

"Yeah," Saica nodded, grabbing her thing and moving over to the door as Katsumi slid her bed-door open. "To thank you for essentially protecting the Saica Army, I'm offering something you'll find invaluable."

Katsumi seemed to be doing a lot of army saving these days. "Do tell."

"When you get all fixed up, tell me first thing."

"Why?"

"Because," Saica laughed, smiling, "I'm going to make you a better fighter, guaranteed."

**yeah, sorry, kinda short on this one but I had the feeling if I didn't stop it ehre I wouldn't reach another good stopping place for thirty more pages, lol. so yeah, story progression!**


	15. Chapter 14

**sorry, my precious sons of bitches! with the school year ending, my access to the interwebz has been horrendously limited, so my updates will be long in coming, but with any luck, they will be massive! I should be getting net at home soon, but I have no idea if or when, so bear with me. anyway, MOVING ON!**

Saica had been kept under close watch until Katsumi was healed enough to go about her days normally. Strangely, in that time, she'd been seeing less and less of Masamune in the mornings and it was beginning to worry her, so this time she woke up extra early to go see him, donning her new armor for the first time and being taken by surprise at just how comfortable it was; oh the difference a proper fit could make! And it was so light as well, meaning she was freer to move about that she had been before. Plus it was comfy. Comfort was always a plus.

Wanting to give him a sincere thank you, Katsumi almost skipped out of her room, being in an above-happy mood, part for her new outfit, part for the fact she could move without aching so she could get Saica to keep good on her promise. Spring was reaching its end and the days were longer and warmer now, so even rising early meant the sun was on its way to start the day, turning everything pink and orange and fiery-colored. Knowing her lord liked to rise with the sun to begin his morning drilling before turning to the more lord-oriented work, she went straight to the training yard, her weighted braid swaying behind her as she half-ran through the hallways.

Metal-on-metal clashing was becoming louder and louder as she approached, leading her to believe that both the Dragon and his Right Eye were already sparring, which was odd. Normally at this hour Kojuro was busy chasing Sayuri through the castle and chastising her for being loud. Perhaps the girl-woman had slept in today?

She entered the yard and stopped short, trying to contemplate what she was seeing. Kojuro was no where around, but one of the fighting figures was definitely Date, his sword cutting through the air in a blur and ricocheting off of the other each time; narrowing her gaze, Katsumi was surprised to find the other person was Saica who was blocking his swings with her hands. _That's impossible!_ she thought, approaching at a slow arc, studying them before seeing it wasn't her hands doing the blocking: the renegade had a pair of pistols in her hands with metal bars over the tops she was using to deflect the flat of the blade when her reflexes couldn't save her.

Masamune was fully concentrating on the match, pounding her step-by-step into a corner, his blade a blur, the sunlight glinting off the metal and creating shining crescents in the air. Magoichi matched him point-for-point, which was beginning to frustrate the young lord, her face closed off, not revealing she was at a disadvantage at close range. Thinking quick, Saica dropped under his next horizontal swing rather than step back or block it, tucking into a roll and pushing onto her knees behind him, turning her pistols into her hands and lifting, firing twice.

Katsumi gasped, wondering what the hell she was doing, when Masamune let out. "Dammit! What the hell was that?"

Saica rose. "Blanks," she said, lifting a small pellet she'd pulled from a pocket on her belt. "We use them to practice with. It's just paper and gun powder. They aren't dangerous but they hurt, don't they?"

"I'll say," he grumbled, hand clamped on his left shoulder where one of the pellets had caught him, undoubtedly going to leave a red mark there. "Like hell it's only paper."

"There might be rocks too," Saica mused passively. "Depends who made them."

He scoffed, rubbing his arm but coming out of his fighting stance. "I take it I'm dead then?"

"Technically so, yes."

"_Damn._ That's twice now."

"You're getting better."

The corner of his mouth twitched as he watched Saica rise, noting how she was very straight and direct, even when moving, cutting through a room with precision and authority; he found himself comparing her to Katsumi's swaying grace, her fluidity that made her seem like a shadow. Both were befitting of the women and both were enticing to watch since they shattered the national stereotype about women being too weak to lead anything or anyone. Saica headed her own army, which greatly impressed him, but Katsumi commanded a room merely by walking in; she had a captivating aura constructed not just by looks, but by her presence when she chose to reveal it. This new woman's battle prowess also caught his eye, reinforcing what he was beginning to label as his preference.

"You're better than I thought you'd be," he admitted to her, watching her holster her weapons and then cross her arms, prompting him to sheath his own sword.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"I like the fact you can fight. It's refreshing finding someone with new moves."

"Don't get too used to it," Saica said, brushing off what she felt was another advance from another guy she had no particular interest in. She got them a lot. Turning, the woman glanced over her shoulder, her brows rising when she spotted the little shadow that stood no more than ten feet away.

Katsumi had listened to the exchange silently, feeling a sick jab in her gut at hearing Saica being praised for her strength, her lip beginning to quiver until she bit it. Not wanting to admit that watching the two interact was making her sick with jealously she had no right to feel. _He's not yours, Katsumi. He can praise whomever he wants. If he likes strong women, he likes strong women. Saica is strong._ The thoughts cut off there as she got herself under control. She wouldn't let jealousy paint her mind with its ugly pictures when she didn't have the right to feel it. "Sorry," she said weakly, swallowing past the lump in her throat. "Should I go?"

Saica started, "No, it's-"

Masamune cut her off upon finding the rogue watching, his mood lifting. "Hey, you're up," he remarked, looking her up and down. "You look great."

Katsumi blushed and bowed her head, "Th-thank you, lord Masamune. I really love it."

His brow furrowed at her sudden formality and he approached her carefully, tuning Saica's presence out completely; when Katsumi entered his sight, he had to make himself notice others because she captured his attention so. "_Are you alright?_"

This time, she didn't smile, and he knew something was wrong in that moment. Wrong enough to make him sick. "Katsu-"

The dark-haired woman suddenly ignored him and turned toward Magoichi, not wanting to risk her resolve cracking under his gaze. "As you can see, I'm healed, miss Magoichi. May we begin today?"

"Hey, begin what?" he demanded, getting irked that she'd brush him off without knowing why.

But Saica had sensed the change too and her gaze narrowed, her female mind piecing the facts together quickly. "Yeah," she started quietly, wondering if she should say something, "sure, if you want. I'm all warmed up now, so whenever you're ready."

"Thank you."

Masamune could only watch as the young woman walked by him, his eye flitting down to where her knives sat, held cross-wise across her lower back, hurt confusion preventing him from looking anywhere else he might usually. Typically being brushed off signified she didn't want him around, but the young lord was too stubborn and too proud to do something like that, but lacking the words and the tact to approach her about the subject, he decided to try and figure it out for himself by sitting down on the patio and putting his chin in his hand, fully prepared to ignore his duties solely for the sake of understanding what he'd done now. _Which was nothing_, he remarked to himself, scowling as the two women reached the main platform and took several paces away from each other before turning about-face. _I was talking to Saica. Did she hear? I didn't say anything bad about her. Maybe it's not me then and I'm just overthinking things._ He shook his head a bit. _Nah, she'd tell me unless it involves me. Is she jealous?_ This made his brow quirk. _I did praise Saica. Plus she was lamenting too. She's either jealous or her pride is hurt. Shit. How do I fix that?_

Left to think by his lonesome, Masamune closed himself off to distraction so he could find a way to resolve the issue, losing sight of the two women quickly, their voices hardly reaching him at all.

Red hair swaying as she turned, Saica called with her confident grin, "Alright, Katsumi, show me what you got."

"What?" the younger woman replied, baffled. "I don't have anything, that's why you offered, isn't it?"

"Yeah, but how can I improve you if I don't know where to start?"

Point taken. "But I can assure you, there's not a lot to start on. I'm not opposed to a review."

Saica rolled her eyes and sighed. "Alright, fine. We'll fight later."

Relief made Katsumi sigh happily.

"We'll measure your stats then. Let's see how strong you are."

She gulped.

Kojuro was, admittedly, vastly impressed with the little protege's work so far. Somehow, she'd enticed some of the men to help her whenever he himself wasn't readily availible, and it didn't go wasted. Sayuri had constructed an irrigation system unlike anything he'd seen before, and it spoke a lot about the confines of her chaotic mind when one sees it.

The center of the garden where the pool once was had been filled, tilled, resized and dug out again only to be filled with smooth river stones and sand, turning it into a water-retaining dish that fed into four inclined channels laid out along the four cardinal points which in turn fed the trough that had been dug at the edges and the smaller waterways that separated the mounded rows that marked where plants would be soon to grow. Above the main dish hung a pole made of hollow bamboo stems she'd managed to suspend from the rafters well above being able to knock heads with it, angled so that when a dish was filled above, the water would run down into the main area of the irrigator and then out to the rest of the garden. Below the mouth of this tube was a bucket on a pulley system that was filled, hoisted and then caught on the lip of the upper dish so as to spill out on its own; he'd doubted its being able to function until she demonstrated, at which point he couldn't hold back how surprised he was.

"How on earth did you come up with this?" he wondered aloud, sensing the girl-woman swaying side-to-side with contentment.

"I thought," she replied.

He ignored how she was being abstract, which he didn't normally like. "How long did it take to come up with?"

"A couple minutes."

His olive-shaded eyes flicked down to her, his brow furrowing. "Then how did you know it would work?"

"I didn't."

Kojuro pushed his forehead against his knuckles and sighed.

Katsumi slumped to the ground, panting heavily. Everything in her arms and legs burned, red welts were springing up across her skin and she was beginning to regret accepting Saica's offer to train her. The woman was psychotic! Standing there smirking knowingly down at her, a rifle slung over her shoulder, not even breaking a sweat. For whatever reason, "strength training" to this woman translated to "I'm-going-to-tie-some-weights-to-your-arms-and-le gs-and-let-you-try-to-hit-me-while-beating-you-wit h-the-barrel-of-a-gun" because she'd get faster and stronger if she could reach her normal speed while burdened so. The gun served as incentive to dodge.

The brutality of the training made even Date flinch as he watched, wincing right along with the young rogue every time the metal barrel made contact with her once-flawless porcelain skin, which was looking more and more tender and sore by the minute. Off-handedly, he thought back to when Kojuro had first started teaching him to weild a _katana _and remembered painfully getting slapped on the hands and wrists with the training blade over and over until he learned to block instinctively. He rubbed his left wrist absently, empathizing all-to-well with the woman.

"Up," Saica demanded, wiping her smirk off her face. "Again."

"W-wait," Katsumi panted, trying to figure out where she'd left her toes and fingers.

"No. Up now or I'll hold you down and tie heavier weights on you."

Her head shot up, her face betraying how flabberghasted she was, when Saica held her rifle out, pointing; she followed with her eyes.

"Wanna look pathetic after half an hour?" the older woman scoffed, trying to provoke her.

Realizing she was being watched and not wanting to give her mind the satisfaction of seeing her weak in front of the person she was coming to respect-and somewhat fear-and the person she's respected for some time whom she didn't want to disappoint. Resolve bubbled up and she pushed to her feet once more, knees quivering while she struggled for balance; exhaustion was adding its own weight to her already distraught limbs, making them heavier than when they'd started as well as numb with staggering control. After doing an exercise where she tried to push on Saica's outstretched arms-only to find that she was much, much stronger than any other woman Katsumi had met-the renegade leader had vouched to strapping ten-pound stone bracelets to each of her pupil's limbs, which started off well and good and Katsumi questioned the necessity of the accessories.

Until now.

_She's a sadist_, the girl thought, feeling weary after only thirty minutes.

Masamune was shaking his head as he watched the girl stand back up, trying to resist the temptation to interfere after the first time when Saica had pointed that rifle at his head and told him to stay out of it. Taking one of those pellets to the face wouldn't be very fun. _What a sadist._

"AGAIN!" Saica barked, swinging the rifle at the girl who barely managed to block with her forearm, thankful for the leather-padded brace under her bound sleeves but losing her balance immediately and nearly falling, her breath coming in hard gasps. "Come on, I know you're better than that."

"I," the younger woman huffed, stepping back as Saica reversed the swing and came at her with her free hand reinforcing the butt of the gun, trying to catch her exposed side, "I can't... feel... my arms..."

"Tough." As if the gun were a halebard instead of a firearm, Saica struck out with the heavy butt one-twice-three times, Katsumi stepping back quickly but sloppily to avoid a painful connection to her solar plexus. "Learn to work through it. We're working on your speed, strength and stamina all at once. Can't fight people if you can't keep up."

True as it was, Saica was still crazy. To Katsumi at least.

Kojuro, dressed in his field clothes, was kneeling in the garden and turning the soil mounds while Sayuri ran in, checked the progress and ran back out several times over the course of an hour-and-a-half, and he was beginning to wonder if she was actually going to stop and do something when she suddenly appeared, arms laden with wrapped somethings that had a pungent and awful stench coming off of it. Stopping his work, he covered his nose and mouth and raised his head as she hopped into the garden and squatted at one of the rows he'd already turned over, pulling an old fish out of her bundle and burying it in the softened soil. "Sayuri," he began, voice muffled by his palm, "what in God's name are you doing? What's that smell?"

Smiling, she held up one of the fish.

He gave her a look like she was crazy.

"Dad and some of the other men always buried old fish in the fields because they help make the soil better and the harvest richer. They're full of good things for plants, so I always bury them before planting."

He'd heard of such uses for spoiled fish and other animals before, but so far inland, food rarely had time to spoil, especially fish, so he inquired, "Where did you get them all?"

"A man in town who brought them from the coast. The packing was ruined and they spoiled so he gave them to me for free! They smell really, really bad but that's okay because I'm used to it and I can just take a bath later. I want to get this all done so the smell goes away and the dirt gets all healthy so I can get the plants and make Katsu happy. Have you seen Katsu today? She's been so busy with that lady with the red hair, she looked all tired and sweaty when I went by, I wonder what they're doing and-"

"Sayuri."

The girl fell silent suddenly and turned red. "Sorry," she mewed before going back to work.

Shaking his head at her blabbermouth, Kojuro tried to go back to his business while ignoring the ripe smell of old trout, wondering whether her ideas will actually work at all.

"Alright, we'll call it a day."

Saica's voice was very far away and droning slightly, as Katsumi was beyond spent, sprawled on the stone ground and gasping like a beached fish and trying to move her body, but she barely got a quiver for all her effort. With this announcement, Masamune was in the clear and he jumped up from where he'd been watching and hurrying to her side, swearing and shouting at the renegade woman, though what he was acutally saying was lost to the rogue, as she was so exhausted she just wanted to sleep despite having only been awake two hours. Magoichi replied calmly as the weights were removed from the young woman's limbs one-by-one and she was lifted carefully, being turned over in a pair of strong, warm arms, her vision swimming.

"Lor... Mas... mune..." she mumbled, almost incoherent with her sticky, dry mouth.

His anger abated as he responded to her call, Saica using the distraction to walk away and find something else to do, her voice ringing out, "Leave her rest tomorrow. She probably won't be able to move. Oh, and make sure she gets a hot bath and stretches at regular intervals otherwise everything will lock up."

"Dammit," the young lord huffed, slowly standing up and keeping the woman close to his body as he began to carry her to her room. "What the hell were you thinking, Katsumi? She's... she's _crazy_. And not the good kind."

The black-haired beauty smiled for just a second. "I jus... 'M sery... lor Mas-mune..."

He glanced down at her lolling head, feeling more than sorry for the poor girl. She'd had no idea what she'd signed on for. "_Don't worry about it._" She grinned, and he felt himself sigh a bit with relief. "But geezes, Katsumi, you're going to kill yourself if you keep this up. I'm sore just from watching you."

She chuckled airily as they reached her room and he toed her door open, shuffling in and trying not to jostle the liquified young woman in his arms. "'F I c'n get stronger... 'Ll do wh't'v'r it takes..." Her grin faded as she felt her bed under her and Masamune's arms leaving her; she wanted to grab onto his sleeve and keep him there, but she could barely breathe let alone control her extremities. "I... don' wanna be weak 'nym'r..."

Pain flashed across Masamune's one eye as he began to understand her acquiesence to Saica's demands had something to do with her pride, but under it he could feel it had more to do with something she hadn't told him yet; some gut instinct told him that, but he wasn't going to push her about if she wasn't ready or willing to talk, no matter how much it bothered him. He wanted her to come to him on her own accord. "You aren't weak, Katsumi," he said gruffly, meeting her curious gaze evenly as he strightened out, his fingers trailing along her numbed arm until he could gently tangle their digits together. "I told you, you just lack experience. But you're far from weak."

She withdrew and managed to turn her head away from him, and a stab of hurt shot through the young man as he felt, not for the first time, her slipping away from him. "'M tired, lord Masamune... please, let me rest..."

Everything shut down at once. Masamune felt a cold hand clench around his heart and squeeze as he realized she'd just blatantly given a dismissal-something she'd never done to him before. Her need for strength was much deeper than he had thought he'd realized, but just how deep was it? He knew he wouldn't be getting any answers now, that was for certain. Heavily, with his mind swimming in questions and pain, he murmured, "Sure," and gave her fingers a gentle squeeze before backing away, wanting to stay with her but knowing it would only drive her farther away from him.

But when she was ready to talk, he would be right there, willing to listen.


End file.
